Little Bird
by Casser
Summary: Marley has been living with the Summers family for years now, and she knows all the rules. Don't invite bumpy headed nasties in, when walking at night carry a stake, and above all vampires are not friends (barring souls and other complications). However as Marley comes to terms with her own demonic heritage she finds herself drawn to a certain fanged jackass. Spike/OC
1. Alone

**UPDATE 12/2016: I first started writing this story four years ago, while going through it again I realized I had a very serious issue with commas (it's still bad, but oh my god I'm not sure if it was real English before). I'm going to be going through and editing the first nine chapters for grammar and syntax issues.**

 **Hey everyone, so this is a repost of a fic from an old account. My author's notes will be pretty sparse until I start posting new material for this. However, I hope you enjoy, and feel more than free to give me feedback constructive or otherwise.**

 **Chapter One - Alone**

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Joyce asked, shoving another tray of lasagna into the freezer. If there was a woman who could pack eight trays into a freezer and still close it, it was Joyce. I had months of casseroles, lasagna, and at least three pies to last me. The pies were probably going to be the first to go.

"I could feed the whole gang 'til Christmas, I think I'm going to be fine," I said with a laugh as she struggled to drag her suitcases through the door.

"Well, that's when I'll be back so I guess you'll be okay." Joyce had finally manage to drag the last bag out onto the porch. Everything had been in a frenzy the past few days with Buffy moving into university, and Joyce packing for Italy, and me...well, staying right here. I'd spent the last couple of years living with the Summers', and for the first time I was going to have the entire house to myself. I was actually kind of looking forward to it - my very own bathroom, imagine that.

"Thank you, for everything. I don't think I'm even going to have to do laundry while you're gone." I popped a grape into my mouth and slid off my barstool.

"Oh, I hope you wash your clothes more than that, Marley."

"Don't worry, I will," I said reaching for a banana.

"You're going to have to go out to the store tomorrow if you keep eating like that."

"But, banana," I said with a pout, lifting up the fruit, "Oh! You're going to be late! Have you called a cab?"

"That eager to get rid of me are we?" She asked, and I grinned sheepishly, "The cab is on the way. Speaking of which, I need to go finish packing. There's a shepherd's pie in the oven that will be ready in a few minutes. I know it's your favorite, there should be enough to last you the week," she glanced at me as I shoved the rest of the banana down, "or a few days."

"Hey," I grumbled through a full mouth.

"Teasing."

"No, it's probably true," I sighed. Joyce laughed, and headed for her room. The edge of the counter dug into my back as I listened to the stairs creak.

All mine. I hadn't had a place to myself since the hell hole of an apartment I'd found when I first came here. That place wasn't really a treat to live in. Now, don't get me wrong, I love living here, but back on the East Coast with my real parents I had had my own bathroom. There are just some things a girl needs.

I don't really know how I ended up in Sunnydale exactly. When you get kicked out you're normally a bit too pissed to think about where you're going except far away, and I didn't have enough for the bus fare to Los Angeles. Oddly, the tiny little town ended up being a hell of a lot more interesting than L.A., and I really mean the hell part. I touched down in the land of monsters and freaks. Fitting really.

I had to admit it was going to be kind of weird. No Buffy, no Joyce, Willow was going to be over at the University too, and Xander was road-tripping or something. What was I going to do with the time I was supposed to be studying instead of saving the world in some sort of adjacent role? Homework?

That sounded excessive.

There was a sharp buzz, and I jumped. Ooh, the shepherd's pie was done. The oven squeaked as I opened it and a wave of meaty, potatoey, buttery, goodness rushed out. Buffy hated shepherd's pie so we didn't have it for dinner that often, but I was going to have Joyce's cooking skills all to myself now.

"Marley! Did you get the pie?!" Joyce called from upstairs.

"Yeah, I got it!" I yelled back, digging around for a spoon. Time to get my pie on. A car horn blared from the driveway, "Joyce! Cab's here!"

A few seconds later Joyce clattered down the stairs, bags dangling over her arms and a suitcase thudding behind her. Just a few more minutes and that big, beautiful bathroom would be all mine. Bubble baths, and naps in the shower, and no one pounding on the door because they're going to be late or were covered in blood again.

"You got the pie?" She asked again, shuffling with her bags so they weren't hanging from her wrists.

"Yes, we already went over this." I smiled, helping her rearrange her stuff.

"And remember school starts tomorrow. You have the address?"

"Yes, I do. All the way on the other side of town," I said. I was practically going to have to bike to Giles' apartment every day for school. It was like five miles.

"My girls are getting so grown up. Buffy at college, and you're starting your senior year." The taxi honked again.

"You should get going," I said, "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Marley. I love you, and remember to tell Buffy that too."

"I love you too, and I will," I said, hugging her around the plethora of bags. With a few more goodbyes, she rushed out the door and into the cab and then she was gone.

The shepherd's pie was waiting for me in the kitchen. Still steaming, but quite a bit cooler now. My dinner plopped into the bowl, the beefy smell getting stronger as I stirred it up. It was so quiet in the house now, no one left but me. I sat down, warm bowl of mushy pie in hand. No you know what, I was alone, I could eat on the couch now.

* * *

It'd been almost a week now, and I was starting to realize exactly how bored I was. I'd been excited to do my physics homework, _excited_. This was ridiculous. A few days without Buffy, and I had nothing better to do with myself than study. Here's another thing I figured out when I got back to school, all of my friends graduated. Blow up my school, abandon me to senioritis and mediocrity, it's all okay. I'll just be here eating your mother's lasagna and stealing your fancy conditioner…so ha!

My mouth pulled down into a frown, I was just in one of those moods where you feel itchy. Not physically (well maybe physically too), but like itchy in your soul and you just can't fucking scratch it. Everything was pissing me off: the canned laughter on the sitcom, the way my shirt kept riding up on my back, the pieces of hair that kept tickling my neck. Slamming my pencil down I pulled the blonde, curly, inherently evil mass into a bun.

This was going to be a really boring year wasn't it? Last year was full of patrols, and rogue slayers, and huge ass snakes. Now it was just going to be me and my text books. All right, problem number three of…twenty. Twenty. I was going to go insa - the phone rang, and I leapt up, books clattering to the floor.

"Hello, Summers Residence. Marley speaking."

"Hey, graveyard, ten minutes?"

"Buffy! Oh my God, yes. I'll see you there." I grinned into the phone and hung up. Oh thank God, I wasn't going to be alone until Christmas. I swung around and stared at the books and pencils that had been scattered across the floor. Physics could wait.

* * *

My feet hit the ground before the bike had even stopped moving. I wasn't really good at the whole slaying thing, that was usually left up to Buffy. I was morale support and extra stakes...or books, of course most of us were books. Buffy was the hero.

It was relatively cool out, and for the first time in months I actually needed a jacket. It was nice, I've always liked jackets they're cozy. Buffy was already there slightly hunched on top of a headstone, feet dangling a few inches above the ground. Four years ago a cemetery would have been a no go at night. Shoot, it would have been a no go during the day if I was alone, but now graves and corpses felt kinda homey.

"So, any vamps yet?" I asked, scooching up next to her.

"Nah, nothing's biting tonight," she said, not looking at me, watching the graves instead.

"So how's college?"

"Kind of like high school, but a bit harder and a bit less evil." She laughed and turned her attention to me, "How's senior year?"

"It's a glorified trailer park, also a bit less evil," I said and leaned my head against her shoulder, "You know once the novelty of hour long bubble baths wore off, I've kind of started to miss you guys."

"Marl, it's been less than a week," she said letting her head rest on top of mine, "How are you supposed to last till Christmas?"

"I don't know, can you hide me in your dorm?" I asked, and suddenly Buffy sat up straight. We got real quiet, and she jumped from the gravestone. Behind us there was a feral snarl, and the sound of footsteps.

"Down!" Buffy ordered and I quickly complied, throwing myself down from my perch. The grass around here was pretty soft; it smelled fresh and dewy. I rolled over to watch Buffy konk the opponent of the night on the head with a well placed roundhouse kick. The vamp was dressed all fancy, fresh from the grave and not much of a threat.

"You could keep me in the closet," I decided to continue, "I'm very good at fitting into small spaces."

"I don't think you would want to," she said as she threw one punch after another, the vampire stumbling back, "My roommate listens to Celine Dion," she blocked a strike and then kicked him squarely in the chest, "constantly. You know, you can only hear one song over and over again so many times before you want to throw yourself in a hellmouth," she concluded as she thrust her stake into his heart, and the surprised look on his face crumbled into dust.

"Oh gosh, that sounds terrible," I said climbing back on top of the grave, a Mr. Clarkson's.

"It is. I had to get out of that dorm before I strangled her with her radio's power cord," she sighed, sitting next to me.

"So other than the roommate problem, there's got to be an upside," I said, "maybe a boy? A cute one. Maybe two, three if you're feeling generous and want to share."

Buffy laughed, "Yeah, yeah I think their might be."

"Ooh, what's his name?" I asked, poking her in the side getting a giggle out of her.

"Parker," she said, emphasizing each syllable and finishing it out with a smile. I was proud of her, jumping back on the horse after Angel left. I had been kind of worried about her, the last time Angel went AWOL she did too - for an entire summer. I was back at home with Joyce, trying to do cleanup duty. "He's kind of cute. I might just have to keep him all to myself."

I laughed and feigned hurt, placing a hand over my heart, "Oh whatever shall I do without my faithful slayer bringing home boys for me to eat?" She shoved me playfully, and I nearly came off the headstone. "So, what kind of action have I missed?"

"Oh nothing special. Just your average vamps," she said casually, swinging her feet back and forth, "I've been having some weird dreams recently." I tilted my head, "Oh you know, scorpions, blood, evil demons. The usual. I was going to go talk to Giles tonight after this."

"Well, you've already filled your quota for the night," I said, jumping up, "You should figure out what's going on. You know just in case it's serious."

"What, you getting tired of me already?" She asked, standing up too.

"I could come with you, I haven't seen much of Giles recently. There isn't really a library at school now."

"No. You have school tomorrow, and I've probably already kept you from doing homework," she said, picking up her bag and swinging it over her shoulder. My heart fell, I really didn't want to go back home. Watching Buffy kill one vamp was probably the most fun I'd had in days.

"Yeah, but that's kind of expected."

"Go home Marley, it's late. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?" She pulled me into a hug.

"Okay."

* * *

It had been a few days since I had gone out patrolling with Buffy, and once again I hadn't done a lot. I'd gone to school, I'd reheated entire pans of lasagna to cut out one piece and put it back in the freezer, I saw Giles once for few minutes. Xander was back though, I'd go hang with him at the Weenie Hut after school. I could eat free hot dogs as long as I didn't stand in front of the condiments.

At the moment however, I was in school. Trapped in the poorly ventilated, overcrowded French trailer, with more than its fair share of boys who were yet to understand the inner workings of deodorant. Currently said boys were joking in the back of class, rather loudly, much louder than our soft and mousey French teacher. They'd laugh and flail about, releasing yet another wave of body odor.

"I'd like to si vous outta here," I muttered under my breath, pressing my nose into my sleeve. Just five more minutes and I could go to...physics. You know, last year I at least had something to get me through seven hours of sunny hell. Usually that something was sitting at the very center of sunny hell for three hours reading about how to kill the things that crawled out of it, but at least I did that with well washed friends.

 _Come on Marley, focus, conjugations, verbs. Two more minutes, you can do this._ Oh, two more classes, and it had already been such a long day. I wondered if Buffy and them even were in class right now, it sounded like they had a lot more free time. Well in a year I could go join them over at UCS, but for now it was more sunny hell.

The clock hit two, and there was the anticipatory rustling of paper and zipping of bags. The teacher was trying to yell out the homework over the din to no avail, and therefor at least ten students would show up tomorrow with the customary, ' you didn't assign this shit!'. The bell rang and everyone ran for the door.

Oh air, sweet fresh air. I was free from that cage of B.O. and despair. It was a nice day out, still plenty warm to be running around in shorts and tank-tops. The students all seemed to have bigger backpacks this year, probably because there wasn't much in the way of lockers now. Physics, physics, physics. The trailer was on the other side of the long rows of trailers, yet ten feet to my left, was my pretty bicycle. Physics...freedom…physics...freedom. Freedom. I turned to the racks, and within a minute I was up on my bike and pedaling away as fast as possible. I'd already come pretty close to completing the first full week of the school year. I thought that was an impressive enough of a feat to warrant...well, not finishing the first full week of school for the year.

I decided that I didn't want to go home to an empty house. Instead, I turned towards the campus. If I laid low for an hour or so before I found Buffy she wouldn't question why I wasn't in school. For having an academic attendance record worse than mine she sure got on my case about missing school a lot.

* * *

It wasn't a particularly long ride from the school to the university, maybe twenty minutes opposed to the hour it took to bike from home to school. It was actually pretty pleasant, almost completely flat or downhill with a soft breeze keeping me cool. Sure, the fifty pounds of books on my back almost took me out around a couple of those turns, but otherwise it was a nice ride.

The campus was quiet - birds chirping, sun shining - most of the students must have been in class still. I found a nice shady tree near the quad, and pulled out my French homework. As long as I was cutting class I might as well be getting a headstart.

An hour later I was almost done with my pre-calc homework, and the numbers were spinning on the page. Just two more problems, then I could take a nap or something. I was trying my hardest to actually comprehend what the next problem was saying, when I heard a familiar voice.

Buffy.

I glanced at my watch, school wasn't supposed to let out for another half hour. Grabbing my books I quickly dragged myself around to the other side of the tree, and prayed to God that she hadn't seen me. I did let myself peek, however, and a grin spreading across my lips when I saw who she was with. A brown haired pretty boy: Parker. I had expected her to look a bit happier with the new prospective boy, and maybe it was just the distance but she kind of looked...upset.

I was considering walking over, whether she would rag on me for skipping or not, when I spotted something skulking in the shadows. A certain bleach-blonde, leather wearing something. I had always known Spike to be brave, but hot damn being that close to sunlight was crossing the stupid line farther than I thought he was capable of. Wow, he was getting pretty close to the edge of the shade - and he's walking into - wait what the hell?

Broad fucking daylight, that bastard was just strolling through the sun like he was on a picnic or something. A sick grin plastered on his smug face. What the hell was happening? I glanced back at Buffy. Parker had left her now, but Spike was approaching quickly.

Shit, shit, shit, what the hell was I supposed to do?

"Buffy!" I yelled, and she looked up at me. No, no she was supposed to look the other way. I opened my mouth, about to call for her to turn around, but it was too late. Spike grabbed a fist full of her hair and yanked her down. I could hear her surprised yelp from here.

How I wished I knew how to go all glowy at will. I wasn't Buffy with her slayer strength, or Willow with her magic. I was Marley, I didn't have the fancy super powers - I was stuck with the ones that I couldn't even use ninety five percent of the time. I had to do something though. Spike's fist was coming down on her again and again, she didn't even have a chance to get up. Kicking into high gear, I sprinted towards them. Spike had his back turned, though he had to know I was there. My hand curled into a fist as I came closer, ready to swing, when suddenly he was facing me - his hands wrapped around mine.

"Well, good day, little bird," he grinned, tongue flicking over fangs, "I didn't think you'd have the guts." And with that I was flying. Not for long though, a brick wall felt like a pretty good stopping point. There had been a sharp crack when I hit, I think it was my head, or maybe I imagined it all together. I could barely think, barely see, barely hear. I could feel though….I felt like I was going to throw up. The sounds of the slayer and the vampire duking it out were muffled, and I couldn't tell who was winning.

 _Come on, Marley. Get up, do something, you're being a fucking bump on a log while vampires walk around in sunlight._ I slowly rose to my feet, trying to ignore the sick spinning feeling that wanted to take me back down. Buffy was back on the offensive apparently, and absolutely kicking ass. Throwing punch, after kick, after jab, beating him down and then grabbing something from his finger. The vampire started to sizzle, and was down the sewers before I even had the chance to blink.

"Marley!" Buffy called, jogging over.

"Hey, um, what the hell was that?"

* * *

"So Spike has been trying to go all super vamp, and no one thought to I don't know...call?" I asked, feeling more than a bit bitter. I was sitting on Giles' couch, an ice pack on the back of my head dripping freezing water down my neck. Giles was next to me, Xander and Oz sat across. Buffy and Willow were talking about something over at the table; I wasn't sure what, I hadn't really been in the mood for asking how anyone's day had been.

"I'm - I'm sorry, I guess it just slipped our minds." Giles took his glasses off and polished them.

"Slipped your minds? He knows where I live! And quite frankly I don't live with a slayer anymore, what if he had decided to use his brain for once and didn't try to take out Buffy on round one? I would have been a sitting duck, Giles, sitting duck!" I sat back huffily, crossing my arms. I kind of regretted the sudden movement, it made the pulsing headache all the worse.

"Oh. Sitting duck, says the girl who can kill vampires with pretty glowing light." Xander said, and I glared at him.

"Hey! The last time I went all glowy was because I nearly got eviscerated! Do you think I like being eviscerated?" I snapped, God my head hurt like a bitch.

"Well, you could learn to use your powers -" Giles started.

"Yeah with what? We don't even know what I am." That was true. Three years in, and Giles still hadn't been able to figure out what I was exactly. There's an astonishing array of things out there that go all flashy when they're feeling threatened. I guess we're kind of like tropical birds that way. So far it looked like I could be immortal. Another possibility was that I could be like one of those mayflies, adn I would die after three days once I hit round two: demon puberty smackdown. That or I could end up developing horns, and a tail, and pick point teeth to suit a sudden taste for human flesh.

My parents wouldn't be of any help, because out of all the lore we'd looked through most of it said my parents probably weren't actually my birth parents. I was some sort of changeling, that or I was some sort of creepy ass parasite that strangled the real baby before birth. Yeah, I might have kicked me out too.

"Well there are basics, things we could figure out if you would just try," Giles argued.

"I don't want to just try! What if we do it wrong, and I'm actually the mayfly and I die three days later because I triggered the demon too early? It's like cow hormones in children's milk, but magic."

"Magic cow hormones?" Oz said slowly, the very first thing he'd added to the conversation.

"What're we talking about?" Willow asked, plopping down on the couch next to Oz.

"Magic cow hormones," Xander piped up.

"Magic cow hormones?" She looked kind of confused.

"Yes! Magic cow hormones!" I said, standing a bit more quickly than I should have, "You know what, I'm going home. Drop a line next apocalypse or something, give me a heads up." I grabbed my bag and stalked towards the door.

"Marley, do you really think you should bike all the way in your condition?" Giles started to stand, "I should drive you, it won't take -"

"I'm fine Giles," I growled, and stalked out of the house.


	2. Control

**Chapter Two - Control**

 **Second chapter, same warnings and disclaimers apply, I hope you all enjoy!**

The video store was decked out in orange and black, little pumpkin and witch stickers were plastered to every somewhat flat surface. The counter was manned by a very disgruntled looking bumblebee. Someone wasn't in the Halloween spirit...the night before Halloween. I wandered through the racks of empty VHS cases trying to find the horror section, tracing my finger across the glossy, bright pictures. Eventually those bright, pretty pictures started to turn dark, and a bit more like something I'd seen in the sewer below Sunnydale. P, P, Phantom Spirit, Phantom in the Attic, no Phantasm. Maybe I could bring back The Shining or something? No, Xander had his heart set on Phantasm.

The disgruntled bumblebee was still there, frowning at a pile of receipts, "Hi," I said, placing my hands on the counter.

"What can I do for you?" She asked, not sounding particularly sincere.

"I was looking for a copy of Phantasm."

"Yeah. Yeah we got one," She said, not really looking at me, but the screamer playing on the TV hooked up to the back wall.

"Could I...rent it? Please?" I asked, wait why was I asking this? It's a video store of course I could rent it. She hadn't responded yet, her eyes were still glued to the television in the back. I couldn't see what was happening, but it sounded rather gruesome. Should I say something? That vacant stare, coupled with viciously winged eyeliner, and her slow methodical way of chewing gum that some how came across as aggressive; were all kind intimidating, fluffy bee suit or not.

Just as I was about to open my mouth she answered, "Yeah. One minute," and disappeared into the back, stinger swaying. From the sound of it someone was being brutally murdered behind me, God knew how long it would be while I waited for my movie, I might as well watch this - fucking hell.

William the fucking Bloody had his mouth wrapped around some poor guy's neck. With one last violent shake that knocked a few cases off the shelf, he dropped his victim and turned to look at me. He slowly licked his lips, and walked towards me.

"Spike," I warned, "Don't come any closer. I have a stake, and I'm not afraid to use it." I lied, I was at least moderately afraid. I'm guessing he knew, because he laughed a moderately evil laugh in return. Could I perhaps get slow working bumblebee girl back as villain of the evening? I felt far less confident about my chances of surviving in Spike's general vicinity without Buffy.

"Oh like you could if you tried." He said, with an asinine sneer. Oh what I would give to glow his ass into the next dimension, if I actually knew how to perform said glowing.

"I could!" I argued, reaching into my bag for the stake that I apparently had lied about as well, "But I'm not going to."

"Just like I'm not going to kill you."

"You're not?" I sounded more surprised than I had meant to.

"Not here for that Bird. Popped out for a midnight snack and a video, no intention of getting the slayer and her scoobies on my arse," he said, standing behind me to form a line, what the actual hell? "What? You think I'd know where to find this," he quickly flashed a case in front of me, "in that hell hole? Anyways, I was thinking of taking the bee home for a movie snack."

I blinked, "Why would you tell me that?" He cocked his head to the side, "You already killed that guy, you think another is going to make Buffy want to stick a stake in you less?"

"No, no, he's not dead. I'm not going to kill her either, well technically."

"Not dead? Look at you, tiptoeing around the slayer like all the other vampires, someone's finally -" He grabbed my wrist and squeezed, as much as I hate to say it I couldn't suppress a yelp.

"I'm not tiptoeing, you stupid bint, I'm being smart," he snarled, and then pushed me back into the counter, before straightening back up and letting his face shift back to the human mask, "I don't need you off tattling to your precious slayer right now," he said a bit more calmly.

I nodded, not really sure what to say. Maybe I should leave, let bumblebee girl call nine-one-one. No, that wouldn't work, Spike would just take her and leave captain misfortune over there to bleed out. I glanced at the vampire, he had turned his attention to the movie, apparently bored by threatening me. Glad to know I'm appreciated. Out of curiosity more than anything I looked to the case in his hand, Passions: Season Three, Tape Two.

"Passions?" Oh my God, this was the funniest thing I'd seen all day. If I wasn't slightly worried he would change his mind about killing me, I would have laughed.

"Yeah, my girl wants to -"

"Spike, you staked Harmony last month, and honestly even Drusilla wouldn't watch that."

"Fine, it's mine," he said, avoiding eye contact. Don't laugh Marley, don't laugh. For the love of God, don't laugh. I choked on a giggle, and it came out as a snort. Fuck. My stomach dropped a bit as I met his glare, and I took as much of a step back as I could considering the counter behind me.

"You know what? I'm too tired for this!" He snapped, throwing the box on the ground and practically storming out of the store.

"Here's your movie." The monotone voice of bumblebee girl droned from behind the counter, "That'll be seven ninety five."

"What about -" I looked at the unconscious man a few feet away.

"I'll deal with it," she said, "seven ninety five." I started digging through my purse, there had to be money somewhere.

"You're not going to ask what happened?"

"It's Sunnydale, kid. Enjoy the movie."

* * *

The crickets weren't dead yet, not that I minded, I always thought they sounded pretty. It was pretty late by the time I managed to get back to Xander's basement. I could hear music from inside, nothing horribly loud (Xander's mom would yell at us), but loud enough that they probably didn't hear my knock. So I lifted my hand and rapped on the screen door again, I didn't mind the dark, but my encounter with average height, pasty, and gruesome had left me a bit unnerved. I knocked again, a bit harder.

"There's our southern bell!" Xander grinned, and pulled me into the basement. Oz, Willow, and Buffy were all there as well as a couple degutted pumpkins.

"I'm not a southern bell Xander," I said smacking the VHS against his chest as I passed, going to take a seat next to Willow.

"You have a southern accent," he countered.

"Hardly."

"You're from Georgia!"

"And you're from Sunny Hell. Just put in the movie, Xander. I want to be scared by something that doesn't exist for once," I said, crossing my arms and throwing my feet up onto the table. At least tomorrow was Halloween. Halloween was quiet, and peaceful, and only spooky in a corny way. My eyes felt droopy, maybe I could just sleep here. No need to go all the way across town in the middle of the night while vicious vampires roam the streets. Not that they don't normally roam the streets at night.

"All right, popping in the movie." Xander narrated, I just leaned my head back and listened. Oz and Willow were flirting quietly through the previews, Xander was making idle (and completely ignored) chit chat, Buffy was oddly quiet. Actually, she'd been oddly quiet since our run in with Spike a few weeks ago.

"Marley, what the hell?" Xander said, and I heard something rustling on the coffee table.

"What?" I mumbled.

"This isn't Phantasm, It's Fantasia." He said, and I sat up grabbing the box from him. He was right, Mickey was staring up at me decked out in wizard robes and starry hat.

"How are we supposed to reach full scareage off of Fantasia?" Xander asked, hitting the eject button with a little more force than necessary.

"I don't know, the big demon thingy is kind of creepy," Willow said, smiling at me. I could always count on Willow.

"I'm sorry Xander, I forgot to check if she gave me the right movie. I was preoccupied." I said, leaning back again and letting my eyes fall shut.

"Everything okay?" Oz asked, I could hear him shift on the couch, leaning forward to see me around Willow.

"Yeah, no, it was just a little run in with Spike. He didn't give me a rough time," I sighed, "He was just there to rent Passions." I added, hoping to keep them from questioning me further. Buffy had been so out of it lately, I didn't need her going after Spike just for him to add a third slayer to his belt. It worked, the others erupted into giggles, even Buffy. After much merriment at Spike's expense, the giggles died down.

"You're okay though?" Willow asked, "You seemed a bit, spooked."

"I'm okay, he just hassled me a bit. I think you might have him whipped Buffy," I said, leaning forward to look at her where she was sitting on the end of the couch, "he was afraid of incurring your wrath." Buffy smiled, and laughed.

We ended up watching Fantasia anyway, talking quietly amongst ourselves while Hippos danced in tutus on screen. I spent half of it asleep, the other half listening to my friends with my eyes closed. They were talking about some party or something, I wasn't sure, not that I particularly cared at the moment. I decided that Xander didn't have a choice as to whether I stayed or not. I just drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Why the hell was Anya in my room? No, this wasn't my room, why the hell was Anya in Xander's room? A quiet yawn forced its way from my throat, and I smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, trying to shake the fuzzy feeling that seemed to blanket everything. What time was it? I really must have fallen asleep, the futon hadn't even been pulled out. I was just curled in the corner of the couch, using the headrest as a pillow, and pillows as blankets.

Did I really want to deal with Anya right now? It sounded like it was a relatively serious conversation, and quite frankly I wasn't in the mood for overly honest comments about the current state of my hair. She hadn't seen me yet, I could just go back to sleep, sleep sounded nice.

My head felt heavy, sinking further into the cushy pillow top of the couch. I think I had had weird dreams last night, that or I was getting dreams confused with centaurs and little baby pegasi. Either way, they were too blurry to really remember anything. Maybe if I fell asleep I could dream them ag - I yelped as I suddenly found myself in midair, quickly followed by the floor, with a short pit stop in between that was my ribcage on the coffee table.

Well I was at least some what awake now.

"Marley?" I heard Anya's voice from somewhere beyond the Futon.

I sat up, "Yup? What can I do for ya?"

"Maybe you could convince Xander that the night that he and I copulated was pleasant enough to continue our relations." She sounded completely serious. I choked, oh my god she was completely serious.

"What?" I said, the word getting mangled by surprise.

"I said -" Anya started, but Xander quickly grabbed her shoulder

"Oh I think she heard you Anya." Xander was turning pink, "You know what Anya, we'll go to the party tonight. Just get a costume ready, it'll be a date, just don't tell all my friends that we... copulate."

"Are you ashamed that we -"

"No, just don't use the word copulate," Xander said, turning redder. Anya nodded, and turned to leave. Xander just stood there in his spiderman boxers looking to be somewhere between embarrassed and mortified.

"So there's a party?" I started.

"You can come too. Just get out." He said, pointing at the door.

"Okay! Calm down, spiderman."

"Out!"

* * *

I needed to go home and figure out something for a costume. I didn't really want to spend fifty bucks on something from the store. There were enough crosses in the house that I could go as an angry preacher, all I needed was some black clothes. It was kind of chilly out, for southern california that is, it was probably like sixty degrees. Anya had decided to drop by pretty early, the sun had only just risen a little while ago, and everything was painted with orange and gold. I enjoyed biking in the morning, it was cool, and quiet, and everything had that fresh morning smell.

Xander's wasn't too far from Ravello, it took me only a couple minutes to ride up to the house. I felt the need for a shower, and coffee, I could kill someone for coffee right now. I came to a stop and swung off, leaving my bike against the side of the house and headed for the door, which was slightly open. My heart started to beat a little quicker, what if a demon had wandered in, or Spike, or...oh god what if it was just some douchebag with a knife? I didn't know what I was supposed to do with douchebags, you're not allowed to stake them. I stood there, staring at the two inches of space between the door and frame, should I go in? Should I bike back to Xander's?

Letting my keys slide through my fingers to form metal claws, I gently pushed the door open, cringing as it squeaked. Nothing looked disturbed, that crossed out douchebag with a knife, and I didn't know a lot of demons who were up for casual entering without breaking. That left...Spike. Oh you stupid, stupid girl, don't laugh at evil vampires for their preference in soap operas. It'll just come back to bite you in the ass, or neck. I knew I should have asked Willow to do the uninviting mojo, but no, I had to procrastinate everything.

I had decided I was just going to slide out the door, get back on my bike, and leave in a quick and somewhat terrified manner. Except, then I heard someone yelp from upstairs. Had he decided to bring a snack while he waited? Scare me with a body - no that was more of an Angelus thing. I couldn't just leave the poor person, what if they were dead before I could get Buffy here?

Trying to make as little noise as possible I crept over to the cabinet and started shuffling through piles of junk looking for an extra stake. My heart was practically in my throat as I closed my fingers around the rough wood. Alright Marley, just don't get yourself killed. At least if I did I would end up taking Spike with me, vamps don't do too well when in close proximity to a blast of dying demon light. I slunk up the stairs, each time a step creaked I stopped in a breathless silence. I could hear the sound of someone going through Buffy's room. Finally I made it to the top of the stairs, and tiptoed to Buffy's room.

I was expecting a murder scene, or a soon to be murder scene, but instead I got, "Buffy?"

"Hey, Marley. Help." Buffy was crouched next to her dresser, her earring was snagged on one of the handles. I let out a breath and quietly put the stake on her bedside table, she wouldn't question how it got there, stakes practically made themselves in this house. So I wasn't going to die, but I decided it was time to call Willow about locking Spike out. The earring had managed to wedge itself into the grooves of the metal handles rather effectively, so much so that I just pushed her head down a bit so I could take the dangly offender out.

"I don't think you're getting the earring back," I said, "You might be able to get Xander to fiddle with it, he has a lot of free time."

"Nah, I didn't like them much anyway," she said, standing up and heading to her closet.

"What'cha doing?" I asked, leaning against her dresser.

"Looking for a costume. I've got a party tonight." She said, from the depths of her clothes.

"Oh I think Xander invited me to that. So, what are you going to wear?" I asked, my heart hadn't stopped beating in doubletime. I think Buffy showing up was the biggest relief of the day, of course it was only eight.

"I don't know. I was thinking Little Red Riding Hood again, but the costume doesn't fit anymore," she said.

"Get me your mom's sewing kit and the costume, I'll let it out a bit if you find me something to wear."

"Deal," she said, and ran down stairs. A few minutes later she was handing me the supplies, I took them and shifted to get a bit more comfortable against the dresser while she went back into the closet to look for her costume.

"You've been okay, right?" I asked, absentmindedly pulling out the stuff I would need.

"What?" Buffy asked, coming out of the closet with an armful of red cloth.

"You've been okay? I don't know, you've seemed kind of out of it lately," I said, as she handed me her costume, "You know you can talk to me, right?" Her face fell slightly, and she sat next to me.

"I had sex with Parker."

"Congratulations!" I lifted my hand for a high five, earning a dirty look, "...not congratulations...what happened?"

"He was so nice, and he was funny, and I thought he liked me - but now he doesn't even notice me, he's not even avoiding me. He just doesn't care!" She said, getting that lost puppy look she had when she was feeling upset.

"I'm sorry. That really sucks." Wow, what a douchebag. Sleep around all you like, but it's a dick move to lead someone on like that. She'd been so excited too, and she was getting over Angel, and now she was moping almost as much as when he was around.

"I feel like an idiot," she said and leaned against me.

"You're not an idiot. He's an idiot, and a...stinky face." I'm not particularly verbose in the realm of insults. She gave a half hearted laugh for my efforts.

"Yeah...a stinky face." She didn't sound all that convinced.

"Get me a costume and I'll buy you ice cream? Yummy, fattening, soul cleansing ice cream," I said, and she smiled.

"Alright, you better be prepared to pay for a lot of toppings," she stood up, "I think I have something perfect for you in my dorm. Be back in an hour or so," she said, and ran out the door. I listened to her jog down the stairs, maybe I'd try to make us some waffles too. I sighed and put the cape and sewing kit aside to stand up, except something kept me from getting up, namely my hair yanking against my scalp. I tried to move again, nothing. I glanced down at the earring, still dangling in the handle. Oh no.

"Buffy! Buffy don't leave me!" The front door had already closed.

* * *

"Marley, what are you supposed to be exactly?" Xander asked, staring at me with a barely suppressed smirk. I could hear Buffy giggling behind me, this was her fault. I bought her ice cream, and in return she gave me a pot.

"C'mon Marley, what are you?" I glared at Buffy, and lifted the pot to rest over the high bun I'd used to keep it from falling off.

"I'm a pothead," I said, sighing heavily. Everyone started giggling, Buffy was practically cracking up, "This is my first frat party, and I'm a pothead."

"Don't worry, Marley, they're frat boys. They'll be all over you," Oz said, and another round of giggles passed through the group. We kept walking, chatting about the party, and remarking on the costumes of people that we passed. I was glad it was Halloween, that meant a nice quiet fun night, free from real monsters.

"So Xander, where's Anya?" I said, a little revenge for kicking me out this morning. The other's looked at him, eyebrows raised, but before anyone could say anything we were interrupted. My pot was nearly jolted from my head as a group of guys dressed like commandos and brandishing rifles ran past, you're never safe from douche bags.

"What the hell was that?" Xander asked, watching the place where they dissappeared into the bushes.

"NATO?" Oz suggested.

* * *

The house was surprisingly, empty. Decorated to the nines, but not a single person was near the entrance. We filed in and looked around at the work they'd done, it was really quite good. The whole place had a dusty, abandoned feel to it: Cobwebs filled with surprisingly realistic fake spiders, junk and scrap wood piled in the corners, it looked like they'd actually broken one of the windows in the back. The whole place smelled like mildew, and something a bit idiots had too much time on their hands.

I jumped at a surprisingly realistic scream from behind me. Willow was swatting at something on her back, I supposed that's why it was realistic. Something large, dark, and fuzzy flew off her shoulder and skittered away. Oh god was that a real tarantula?

"I think they tried a little too hard." I was staring back up at the cobwebs, where I could now see the spiders moving here and there. I hate spiders.

"Come on," Oz started walking, "The party's upstairs."

"Hey guys," Buffy hadn't moved, "I think that's real blood." I turned around, and sure enough there was a puddle of thick red liquid. Which would explain the metallic smell. I can't say I wouldn't put frat boys past murder, the ones in this town were kind of fucked up. Maybe it wasn't human? I knelt next to the puddle, not really sure how looking at it would tell me if they'd killed Tommy or Babe. The others had come over to stare at the blood, yes we have saved the world, though sometimes I wonder how.

There was a high pitched squeaking from somewhere above us, did spiders squeak? The first flap of wings against my neck barely registered, but suddenly there was a hell of a lot more of them. I screamed, flailing my arms above my head, trying to get free of whatever demon spawn had been unleashed upon us. Almost as quickly as they'd come, they were gone, leaving one of their fuzzy - no, rubber - brethren on the floor with us. It was a bat, but it was rubber, but it attacked us. What the hell was happening?

"So, call me a party-pooper, but I say we get Giles," I said, trying to let the fluttering in my stomach pass.

"I'm going to have to second that," Willow piped up.

"Alrighty let's move -" Xander stopped abruptly, "...out. Guys there was a door here, right?"

"Well it's gone now," Buffy said, touching the place where the door had been.

"Release me!" Someone yelled, based on the deep growling tone it had to be Oz. I didn't think Xander was capable of it.

"Yeah, what he said!" I said defiantly.

"Marley, that wasn't one of us," Xander said.

"Wait, what?"

"I don't know Buffy, she has a point," I said trying to sound as un-aggressive as possible, "A spell could be useful right now."

"No," Buffy argued, "What we need to do is split up, and whoever gets out is going to go get Giles."

"I dunno," Oz said, "Whatever is here, I don't think it really wants us to leave." The atmosphere had been tense before, but now it was kind of like everyone had been tied together with a live wire.

"And I don't know if you've watched any horror movies recently, but splitting up isn't usually the best idea." Xander added.

"I think magic would be worth a shot," Willow said, not really looking at Buffy.

"Willow, your spells don't even work half the time!" Buffy snapped, "You're just as likely to get us killed as you are to get us out."

"Yeah, and if we don't try something, we're all going to be killed by plastic skeletons!" Willow yelled.

"You know what," Buffy raised her hands, "Do what you want, I'm going to get Giles." With that she stormed off, and Willow practically in tears went the other way Oz close behind.

"So, Xandman, just you and me against the -" I looked around, where the hell was Xander? Great, they'd all left me.

* * *

The halls were endless, it was like a labyrinth in here, every damn door I went through lead to another hallway and the door that I'd come through was gone. There was an odd hollow feeling in my gut, some combination of nerves and the surrealness of it all. I honestly no longer cared about what I found, I just wanted to get out of these fucking gloomy little hallways. I sighed, reaching out for another door, I really didn't care it could lead to - Vampires! They weren't the standard, or they were the standard, widow's peaks and the whole shebang. The three of them hissed dramatically, and spread their capes before running at me.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I was tearing down hallway after hallway, the vamps hard on my tail. I would almost prefer the normal vamps we dealt with, at least if they got me it wouldn't feel so cliche. I threw open another door, and slammed it shut behind me, they couldn't have possibly followed. I sighed, patting the now blank wall and turned around. The vamps were, there banging on the door I had just gone through, and I was in a dead end. They all turned in unison, giving me perfectly fanged smiles before advancing. I had no stakes, and no weapons save the pot from my head.

This was it.

They loomed over me, capes spread, fangs bared, and then whoosh. There was an actual sound to the golden light that rushed out in waves, burning them to a crisp before they could even touch me, and then racing down the hall before disappearing around the corner. What was that? That wasn't supposed to happen, I'd only ever done the glow thing when I was threatened. And by threatened I mean either a large TV fell on me, or there was a sword in my stomach. A handful of vampires didn't trigger it, at least not before.

Oh god I was getting stronger wasn't I? I didn't know how to use it, much less control it, or even what it could hurt. The first time it happened, back in Georgia, it killed my goldfish. The second time it dusted a couple vamps, but now it was happening again and they hadn't even touched me. What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt Buffy? Or Xander? I staggered to my feet and started running, I needed to get out of here. There was too much that could go wrong.

I threw open another door, with a bit too much gusto. The edge clipped my nose and suddenly the light was coming off of me again, this time in piercing rays shooting off in different directions. Why was it loud? The noise was piercing, and it was getting brighter. It was a fucking door! It might have made my nose bleed, but I didn't need to go nuclear over it. There was nothing but noise and light now, I couldn't even hear my heart, but I could feel it pounding against my chest. My head was in my hands, I didn't know where I was if I was sitting or standing, if I was screaming, and then it was dark.

"Hello?" I whispered, I couldn't see anything, what light there was was rendered useless by the blinding sun spots that danced on the back of my eyes. God my head hurt.

"Stay away," a voice growled from a few feet to my left, "Stay away from me." I knew that voice, Oz. Oh god, Oz! I could still feel the glow, prickling beneath my skin. He was muttering something, again, and again. I couldn't make it out, the ringing hadn't left my ears yet. My vision was coming back slowly, and I could see light reflected in the dark black of his eyes. He was changing. That wasn't right, it wasn't a full moon. Of course nothing seemed to be working right in here.

"Shit, shit I gotta get out of here." I stood carefully, afraid that I would blow the whole town out if I so much as broke a nail.

"I don't want to hurt you," Oz said, from his spot in what appeared to be a tub.

"Not what I'm worried about, bud." I started to feel my way towards the wall. I don't know how I ended up in here, with them, but I needed out. There had to be a door somewhere they had to be.

"I don't want to hurt you." There was more strain in his voice, the gravelly undertones stronger. Ceramic cracked under pressure, he must have been gripping the tub, "Leave!"

"I'm trying!" The prickle was getting stronger, oh god I was going to kill Oz.

I pounded my hand against the wall, pain seared through my hand. It wasn't the wall, it was a mirror. My eyes lit up, reflecting back at me, bright and golden. The cracked glass bathed the room in little gold lights that spun and twirled as I moved, the glow got brighter and brighter. No, no, no, no. Control it, don't do this. You can't kill Oz. I whirled around, and the room returned to darkness, I had to find some sort of way out. I could still see my eyes, the light from them staring back at me. Wait! Glass.

There was a window across the room from me. I lunged across the room and without a thought, I jumped. The glass shattered around me, and by all means I expected to be enveloped in searing light and sound again as I plummeted to the ground, but it was quiet.

"How did you do that?" Giles' voice had never sounded so pleasant.

"What?" I replied shakily, I hadn't jumped outside, I had jumped into a room.

"You just broke through a wall," Xander said.

"Oh, that," I brought myself to my feet. The prickle was gone, I was fine. No one was dead. There was a rustling behind me, Oz was picking his way through the hole I had left. Everyone was here, Buffy, Willow, even Anya in a fluffy bunny suit. I looked over to Giles, "How did you -"

"Chain saw." Anya said matter of factly.

"Oh, okay," I wobbled my way over to a chair and sat down, "So what's happening?"

Xander held up an old leather bound book, "Gachnar."

"Fear demon," Giles explained, "He feeds off of terror, he was manifesting himself here."

"Is he -"I started, and Giles stepped aside, revealing a demon that couldn't have been taller than a couple inches.

" _He_ did all of this?" I nearly killed Oz, and jumped out a window, at the hands of something so small it could almost be considered cute.

"Yup," Buffy said, slamming her foot down on it despite the little bastard's defiant and diminutive screams, "And now, we're going home."


	3. Red Light

**Third chapter, this one isn't the strongest, also lacking in Spike. So if you have any pointers on how to avoid issues feel free to leave a review, the beginning doesn't feel so bad, but the end was a little...melodramatic?**

 **Anyways, I hope you like it.**

 **Chapter Three - Red Light**

This was definitely one of the nicer restaurants in Sunnydale, I hadn't expected Dylan to go so...all out. He was wearing a suit for god's sake, and I was wearing jeans and a bleach stained hoody. Was this how guys did the dating thing now? I'd been out of the pool for a year or so, but damn I was expecting a dark movie theater where no one would be able to see the holes I hadn't bothered to stitch up. This place was dimly lit, but I'm still pretty sure the old man at the table behind us knew exactly what shade of pink my underwear was today. Being under-dressed aside, it had been a nice date so far. He had driven me here, the waiter gave us water, and now we were staring at menus together in silence. In the background there was a symphony of polite dinner conversation, and the scraping of fancy forks on fancy plates, because fancy food only comes in half portions.

"So what do you think you'll get?" He asked, not looking up. Everything sounded so fancy, with scallions, and beurre-blanc, and obscure vegetables. Was breadsticks an option?

"I haven't decided yet, it all looks so good. What are you thinking of?" I started to scan the menu with a little more haste, I didn't want him to know I was picky. Oh god, everything was so expensive. He was paying for this right? Cause I did not have thirty dollars for a piece of over spiced beef.

"I was thinking of the Foie Gras in black truffle sauce," he said. Should I just order the same thing? Truffles were like some sort of fancy mushroom, but I had no idea what Foie Gras was supposed to be.

Dylan was really cute, tall, athletic, with pretty green eyes a few shades darker than mine, and a long straight nose, and if he was planning to pay for this I had to assume he was rich. We sat next to each other in English, and had been talking a lot. I guess I had kind of been expecting the date for a while now - I liked him, he seemed to like me. He wasn't as pretentious sounding as that Parker guy, from what Buffy had told me, Foie Gras and all.

"Yeah that sounds yummy -"

"You could have a bit of mine if you like, we could split our dinners. Do you like lobster?"

Well I'm not allergic, "Yeah I love lobster."

"Great," he said, setting down his menu, "I love lobster too." His smile gave him little dimples up near the top of his cheeks that were absolutely adorable.

"Yeah, it's so lobstery - you know, shellfish, butter sauce." What the hell was I saying?

"I'm going to go to the bathroom real quick. You'll be okay?" He said as he stood.

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine," I said with a polite smile, and he walked by, touching my shoulder as he passed. Well, now I was alone and under dressed. I could just avoid eye contact with all the fancy people, in their fancy clothes, and look out the window instead. It was a pretty quiet night, not too many cars or people. There was a homeless guy on the other side of the street, a couple of shop owners just closing up, what appeared to be some sort of demon looking at a newspaper stand. I was so preoccupied with people watching on the far side of the street that I almost didn't notice Buffy - for lack of a better word - lumber up to the window.

I couldn't quite hear her through the window, but she yelled something that sounded vaguely obscene, and slammed her fist into the glass. The entire restaurant fell silent, and all eyes were drawn towards me and my bright pink underwear. Thanks Buffy.

Something seemed off, slayers tended to be more graceful, and well she was screaming and banging on windows - generally not the signal for everything is a-okay - and then she just ran off. Well, that wasn't normal. I knew she'd been upset over Parker, but I didn't expect her to go completely ape shit. I had to go after her didn't I? Dylan wasn't back, but I couldn't lose track of Buffy, even when she appeared to be drunk off her ass she was faster than me by far. The hall to the bathrooms were empty, no sign of him anywhere. I didn't want to just leave him, was there a pencil somewhere to leave him a note?

I turned to the old man at the table behind mine, "Sir, could you do me a favor?"

"I think so," he said.

"The boy who was with me, tell him I had to leave, and I'm really sorry." I picked up my purse, and stood, "Thank you so much."

I could still see Buffy, just barely, she was moving along at a pretty steady pace. There was no way I was going to catch up with her now. There had to be a phone somewhere, I would have to come across one eventually, so I started to jog after her.

Six blocks and no phone yet. For someone who was constantly at risk of being chased by super-powered monsters, I was not in shape. I needed to start running or something, my legs felt like lead. Buffy was all over the place, she'd nearly been hit by a car twice, not that it would do too much damage.

Oh thank god, a phone. I slid to a stop in front of it and started digging through my purse for a couple quarters. I could hardly see the coin slot, or the numbers, the streetlamp had burnt out at least a week ago and no one had replaced it. Come on, come on, Buffy was already just an awkwardly moving blur at the end of the street.

"Giles. You wouldn't have happened to have misplaced a slayer, would you?" I said, some what out of breath.

"Well, yes, how did you -"

"She's heading down West Poplar, towards campus," I leaned against the metal of the phone's case, it was wonderfully cool, "I'm trying to keep up with her, cut her off would you?" I said, hung up the phone, and kept running.

It took another five minutes to lose sight of her, and another fifteen before I was totally stumped. Sunnydale wasn't huge, it shouldn't have been this easy to lose a compromised Slayer in the middle of town. There weren't even that many people out, did she take a turn? Climb a tree? Where on earth could she have possibly - fire, of course there's fire!

I took off down the street. I recognized the place, a kind of dumpy bar that a lot of college kids hung out at - apparently they didn't card - and last I heard it was also Xander's most recent place of employment. The trucks were already there, people milling about lugging hoses and yelling orders that were unintelligible from here. I had smelled the smoke a while back, I guess I just assumed that there was another forest fire. It's not like they're uncommon.

"Hey!" I yelled, running up to one of the men, "Hey! Was there anyone in there?" I asked, trying to pick out faces in the flashing lights.

"Yeah, they all got out though," he said, using my question as an excuse to take a break, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Where -" I started, and he pointed towards a cluster of ambulances just up ahead. Buffy. I wove my way through the trucks, and the mass of bystanders trying to make it to them. Come on where were they? Everyone's faces looked so distorted in the flashing blue and red lights. There! Xander was just a little bit farther.

"Xander!" I called out, running up to him, and grabbing his shoulder "Xander! Is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, yeah everyone's fine. You should see Buffy, it's a real blast from the past." He grinned, looking more than a bit proud of himself.

"Is she like...over Parker or something?" I asked, what the hell was he talking about? It was a fire and a drunk slayer, not a time machine - actually I probably can't rule that out around here.

"You could say that," Xander said as the boy in question was wheeled by on a gurney.

* * *

It had been a while since we had all been to The Bronze together. I had missed this, cramming more chairs than could realistically fit around the tiny round tables, and trying not to knock over each other's drinks. The band was pretty good tonight, people were up and dancing, and for once Buffy wasn't moping, but dancing right along with them. Whacking a douchebag over the head can do wonders for a girl. She had been up, and laughing, and wasn't having an existential crisis every twenty seconds. It was nice to have her back.

I checked the door for the twentieth time, and for the twentieth time was disappointed. Still no Dylan, I had left a message saying I would be here. I was hoping we could meet up, but after I ditched him the other day, maybe he didn't want to. I had a good reason for leaving, but I guess good reasons don't count when you don't tell anyone what they are. I sighed, and took another sip of my coke savoring the bubbles and loneliness.

Two thirds of our group were in relationships now; Xander and Anya, Oz and Willow. Both of them happy in their silly, awkward way, though I would have to say the former was a fair bit stranger. They worked together well though, it was kind of like he was helping a very confused kitten - a confused kitten that could talk circles around him - but confused nonetheless.

"Hey," Buffy said, sliding back into her chair, "You guys should come dance."

"But if I'm dancing, how will I be able drink my drink?" Anya asked, holding up a bright green margarita, "It's fruity."

"Are you even allowed to be drinking?" I asked.

"I'm, like, a thousand years old. I passed the drinking age before your great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great -" She had rolled her eyes up trying to count the exact number of greats that might have occurred over the years.

Xander placed a hand on her shoulder, "I think we get it Anya."

"Come on, the band is amazing tonight -" Buffy started.

Willow scoffed, cutting her off, "Oh come on - I mean, they aren't that good - look at her she's so…boring." That was un-Willow like.

"No, she's great," Oz said, almost as if in a daze, "Amazing really." He was watching the singer so intently, the band was great, but you didn't hear with your eyes. I guess things weren't as happy in cross-supernatural relationship land as it had seemed. I looked back towards the doors again, hoping to see Dylan and his dimples, but instead I got Giles. Giles with a serious face, and a index finger calling me over.

"I think I've been summoned," I said begrudgingly, and slid down from my chair.

It was a rare occasion to see Giles show up in The Bronze, and that in itself was troubling. Mixed with the 'we must speak' expression, I was starting to get butterflies. Not the nice butterflies though, more like moths.

"What's up?" I asked, suddenly wishing I had taken Buffy up on her offer to dance.

"I need to speak to you."

"You are -" I started.

"Somewhere where I can hear you," He said, motioning towards the door. I nodded, and followed behind, slouching slightly and shuffling my feet. I had no idea what he wanted, but I didn't like it. It wasn't like I had fucked up spectacularly with in the past few days, there was no reason to go all librarian hunting out overdue books on me. We jostled our way through the line into the club, and stopped in the alley. It was chilly out, I had forgotten to bring a jacket, I was kind of regretting it now.

"I talked with Oz today," He said. Well that was vague.

"Yeah me too, he's in there now if you want to talk to him again." Would he just spit it out already? What if I missed Dylan coming in?

"He mentioned something about you, that he noticed on Halloween," Giles said, taking off his glasses to polish, that was never a good sign, "He had been halfway between wolf and human, so he didn't remember much, but he - he said you were using your powers." That little piece of shit. He told _Giles?_

"It hasn't happened since. The house did weird stuff to scare everyone, it was nothing. I'm perfectly fine -" I tried to defend myself.

"He said that you lost control of them," He said, putting his glasses back on.

"Yeah the house -"

"Played off of fears that were already there," he interrupted me, "Marley, we need to talk about this, you're abilities aren't just going to go away."

"So what, I shouldn't be afraid of the deadly golden light?" I asked, not meeting his gaze. I didn't see how any of this was relevant. I had the powers, I wasn't human, and I couldn't change it so I would just have to deal, and I was dealing just fine.

"No, I'm saying you're right to be afraid. You're getting stronger Marley - maybe Gachnar hyperbolized them for the effect - but if you don't learn -"

"Learn what Giles? We don't even know what I am!" I argued, voice beginning to raise.

"I've told you a thousand times, that doesn't mean we can't start -" He was starting to get frustrated. His voice didn't get louder, but there was a passive aggressive British bite to his tone.

"What if we do it wrong?! I could get myself killed! Or worse one of you."

"Marley…" Giles softened.

"I nearly killed Oz in that house, and maybe the demon was messing with me, but that power could still be there." My mouth pulled into an involuntary grimace at the thought of the blinding, deafening sensation that the glow had brought, "Right now it is under control, it's not bothering me, or anyone else. I'm not going to try to fix it, it's not broken yet."

"We don't have to wait until it breaks you, Marley. It's not reparations we're looking to make, but a foundation so when you do start to come into your powers you don't almost kill someone," Giles said. He wasn't being fair, he wasn't the one who killed their goldfish when they were fourteen. Shit, I could have killed my parents too if they had been a few feet closer.

"I left my purse inside, let Buffy know," I growled, brushing past him towards the road.

"Marley! Marley we haven't finished -" he called out, gaining more than a few looks from the people waiting to get into The Bronze.

"Yes, we have!"

* * *

I had barely gone anywhere other than school and home in the past few days in an attempt to avoid Giles. Though if he really wanted to find me he knew exactly where both of them were, however I sincerely doubted I could win that easily.

Dylan hadn't been at school. Yet another person who didn't feel like talking to me...he was probably just sick. He could have given me a heads up that he wasn't going to come. Yes, because I gave him ample notice before I ditched him at the fancy restaurant to eat Foie Gras all by himself.

I poked at the mug of ice cream I had in front of me. I should've been doing homework, but I don't know, I just didn't feel like it. I hadn't really felt like going to school either, it wasn't like anyone would know. All they would do is call the house, and I was the only one in it, so see how well that worked.

School should have ended by now, but the crappy daytime TV hadn't. I was forced to decide between Passions, infomercials, and televangelists - needless to say I picked infomercials - I hated school, but I forgot how boring home was. They'd been selling this vacuum cleaner for the past twenty minutes, and the boredom was getting worse. I might as well take a shower, I shoved the last of the ice cream in my mouth and headed for the stairs.

Was the phone ringing? I poked my head out from behind the curtain, and waited. Yep, definitely ringing. I grabbed a towel and dashed down the stairs, trying not to fall. I'm sure I looked like one of those birds after an oil spill: wet, confused, and covered in soap. I slid to a stop in the middle of the last ring, and picked it up.

"Hello, Summers -"

"Marley, it's Buffy." Her voice came through the receiver, it was a little hard to hear since I had to hold the phone away so I didn't cover it in shampoo.

"Hey, how are you?" I asked, trying to adjust my slipping towel.

"Fine. Hey, can you do something for me?" Well, good thing I took a shower.

"Yeah," I said, I wanted to get back in the shower soon. I had turned the A/C on this morning, and it was colder than I would have liked for being sopping wet.

"There were a couple werewolves loose last night," she said.

"Oz?" I asked, "No one got hurt did they?"

"No, no that I know of," she said, and I had an internal sigh of relief, he would never forgive himself, "Just could you check on him, see if he knows anything about the other wolf?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get on it." I said quietly, twisting my fingers through the cord.

"Thanks. Tell me what he says," She hung up.

* * *

Between finishing my shower and biking up to campus it took another hour or so before I could even start looking for Oz. I checked his dorm, his band mate's dorm, everywhere I could possibly think of that he might be hanging around during the day. Nothing. It was a nice day out, college students were everywhere; playing frisbee, lying on the grass with a small pile of textbooks, it was the type of day where you should be outside playing. Only Oz would lock himself away on a day like this. Wait...lock...I was such an idiot! His cage, of course he would be at his cage.

It wasn't long before I quietly slipped into the room, it smelled of dog and propane. Odd mixture really. There was a loud whooshing noise that would subside every few seconds, and then return. What the hell was he doing? I rounded the corner, finally, Oz. He was crouched next to the bars of his cage, welding torch in hand. He got out didn't he?

"Hey, Oz," I said, with a smile and as a casual an attitude as I could muster, and plopped myself down on top of the table, "What'cha doing?" I nodded to his welding torch.

"Some of the bars were starting to look weak, I'm just being careful," he said, setting down his torch. I nodded, at least five or six of the bars had shiny, fresh, strips from being soldered back together.

"So you were here last night?" I asked, "You didn't get out or anything?"

"What? Why?" He questioned, standing up.

"There were some werewolves on campus last -"

"Did anyone get hurt?" He interrupted, a little too quickly.

"No," I assured him, "No one was hurt." I grabbed my bag and started hunting through it for a granola bar, I was starting to get hungry, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the wolves? Have you noticed anyone else on campus?"

He shook his head, "Nope. No one." I nodded, he nodded, I nodded back. God, this was awkward.

"Well, thanks for the information...or lack there of." I stuffed my granola bar in my mouth and jumped down from the table.

"You are welcome," He said stiffly, I nodded. He nodded. I was going to kill Buffy for putting me up to this, "Well, see ya around?"

"Yeah, see ya around." I pulled my bag back over my shoulder. I sighed, and started going over a checklist in my head, things that needed to be done. Call Buffy about Oz, do homework, reheat the last of the lasagna for dinner, go to bed, try to make myself go to school, avoid Giles. I stopped, and turned back to look at Oz, he was kneeling again going for the welding torch.

"Oz?"

"Yeah?" He straightened up.

"Why did you tell Giles?" It had been gnawing on me for the past couple days. A sort of underlying aggravation over him blabbing. That had been private for me, he knew damn well my feelings about this, he had no business telling Giles about something that wasn't even relevant. It was the house, nothing more. I tried to ignore the clenching in my chest as I waited for him to respond.

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, "You looked scared," he said, making a point of meeting my eyes, "I didn't know what I could do about it, but you looked like you needed help. Giles is...Giles."

I nodded slowly, it didn't justifying him going behind my back, but his intentions were well placed I guess, "You could have come to me."

"And you would have listened?"

"Probably not," I said, and turned to leave again. I heard him shuffling about with his welding tools behind me, "Oz," I said, not turning around, "You look scared."

* * *

I walked into Buffy's dorm and chucked my bag on the floor, "So what's the emergency?" I asked cheerfully, going for the box of chocolate-y granola bars I knew Buffy kept stashed in her desk. Okay no response, that's cool, "Come on, you didn't drag me out of class to chat did you? I mean - I might expect that from Xander -" A muffled squeaking noise came from Willow's bed.

She was crying; eyes puffy and red, nose puffy and red, cheeks puffy and red, hair just kind of red. Buffy was next to her, and arm wrapped around her shoulder. Willow buried her head in her hands as her face contorted against another sob, every once in a while her whole body would jolt with a hiccup. I looked to Buffy, what the hell happened? I don't think I had ever seen Willow that upset before. Buffy whispered something to Willow, and motioned for me to follow her out into the hall.

"What's wrong?" I asked as the door clicked shut.

"Oz cheated...I think, she's not making a ton of sense right now," Buffy said a bit wearily.

"With who?" It didn't seem like Oz, but they had been drifting recently.

"Veruca," She stated. Who? I must have looked confused, because she clarified, "The singer from the Bronze the other night."

Oh, yeah that made sense, he'd been watching her so intently, "Oh. Is Willow...okay? I mean aside from the crying."

"She's pretty broken up about it. She almost got hit by a car earlier." Buffy said, her forehead was wrinkled, mouth turned into a frown.

Shit, "She wasn't trying to-"

"I - I don't know, she was pretty out of it. Look, I need to go after Veruca," Buffy said.

"Woah! She's a bitch, but I don't think that constitutes slaying her!"

"She's the second werewolf. I don't want to slay her, but she seems...more dangerous than Oz." She said, and I nodded.

"So do you need help with finding her or something?" I asked, watching Buffy hunt could be fun. Better than going to English class.

"No, I need you to watch Willow. She's not exactly stable right now," Buffy said, lowering her voice to make sure Willow wouldn't hear through the door.

"Yeah no problem," I said, reaching for the handle, "Good luck with Veruca."

* * *

Willow didn't say a lot, I stayed with her on her bed for a while, offering up Buffy's chocolate as consolation. She didn't want any. I'd never seen her so despondent before, it was strange. She was Willow, she was the perky one, with the happy go lucky attitude and good advice. She had stopped crying a few minutes ago, and now it was quiet, the kind of quiet where your ears start to ring. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say, if I was supposed to say anything at all. She had her back turned to me, her sides steadily rising and falling with each breath. She could have been asleep for all I knew. So I continued keeping her company in silence.

I didn't know how much time had passed, it could have been ten minutes it could have been an hour, however I did know I needed to pee. The creaking of springs as I rolled off the bed was cacophonous in the quiet of the room. Willow didn't move, or look up, her eyes were closed. I smiled softly at her, other than the bright red nose she looked rather peaceful. Trying not to disturb her I slipped off to the bathroom.

The sink hissed as I turned it off, and reached for a towel. How long would it take for Buffy to track down Veruca? I loved Willow, but god was I bored. I could probably start homework, or read, or something, it's not like she was awake or anything. Oz was just screwing up everything lately, wasn't he? Normally he was the sensible one. Breathing out heavily I walked back into the room to find it empty. Well, shit.

I burst through the door into the hall. I'd been in the bathroom maybe two minutes at most, she couldn't have gone far. I ran for the stairs, earning more than a few looks from college kids. The common room on the bottom floor was full of students studying, talking, heading off to class or coming back from it. I scanned the crowd for a hint of her short red hair, nothing. Buffy was going to kill me, I had one job, sit next to the semi-catatonic witch and make sure she didn't do something stupid. I had no idea what she was up to, but I was eighty percent sure it would fall under the category of stupid.

I jogged through campus, trying to catch a glimpse of her. This was useless, campus was huge, she could be anywhere. Still I had to do something, I couldn't just leave her to step in front of a car again. What the hell would she want out here? It couldn't be a quiet place to think, the dorm was perfectly quiet as is. She didn't seem all that interested in binge eating ice-cream, and she wouldn't have needed to sneak off for that. I would have gladly done it with her. Oh god, she was going to witch them wasn't she?

She would need supplies. Maybe? I needed to start paying more attention to my friends' hobbies. I knew there was a little magic shop maybe a half a mile from here, maybe if I ran fast enough I could catch up with her. I turned and picked up the pace, Willow was going to hate herself in a week if she hurt them. She wasn't that girl. I tried to take deep, paced breaths, I couldn't stop yet. It took a minute or two to reach the quad, only the rest of the half mile to go. I should have remembered my bike.

I would have blown right through the quad and on into town if I hadn't noticed her. Not Willow, but a blonde. The way she moved, it was like she was hunting; long and sleek, and with an intent to kill you learned to pick up on after three years of watching Buffy go back and forth with vampires. She looked familiar, really - Veruca. Buffy was no where to be seen, some job she was doing. Who would Veruca be hunting during the day, normally they weren't quite so blood hungry until the sun went down. Maybe she had a personal beef with someone?

Willow.

I slowed down and started to follow Veruca. She was going after Willow, oh god what was I supposed to do? I couldn't take on a werewolf. If I could get ahead of her, warn Willow...but Veruca seemed to be the only one who knew where she was. My brain was in overdrive, trying to figure out how to get to Willow before Veruca did, but I was coming up with nothing.

We were heading towards a series of blockish, brick buildings with a plethora of smoke stacks coming out of the roof. The chem labs. If only there were only one lab, but there were three. I could have run ahead, maybe gotten there first and locked the door. Buy enough time to find Willow, but I was relying on the sniffer of the girl who wanted to kill her.

The blonde took a turn towards the steps up to the largest of them. I could do it, if I could just make a break for it. Alright Marley, you can do this. One, two, three. I lunged forward, sprinting past her for the door. I was halfway up the steps when I heard her call out.

"You think I didn't know you were following me?" She smirked, and turned, running towards the lab opposite.

Shit.

I took off after her, Veruca was going to kill Willow all because I couldn't hold my fucking bladder. There was no way I would ever be able to outrun a werewolf, but I managed to get to the door just as she locked it in my face. I could see the mocking bite to her laughter as she flipped me off through the door's huge glass windows, turned, and sprinted off towards the stairs.

"Come on!" I yelled, shaking the handles violently. This was shit, such fucking shit.

Veruca had already disappeared from sight, how close was she to Willow? The sun was almost down, and everything was cast in a red-orange glow. I glanced at the glass in the door. It took less than a minute to find a big enough rock to chuck through the bottom section. The glass shattered, leaving a web of white cracks that I kicked out before crawling through, doing my best to avoid cutting myself on the shards.

Apparently it was late enough that everyone had gone back home. I sprinted down rows of empty classrooms, trying to find Willow. If only I had kept up with Veruca - I still wouldn't have been able to get there in time - but I would have at least known where I wouldn't make it.

I took another set of stairs two at a time, my lungs burned, but I couldn't stop. I needed to find her. Coming up to the fourth floor I saw her, Veruca. Her lips curled back in what I could swear was a snarl. Fuck. I took a shaky breath, now what? My pulse was starting to accelerate, I could run back down stairs. That looked to be my only option, Veruca could probably kill me wolf or not. The wolf had some sort of sick grin painted on her face as she advanced, eyes locked on me. Maybe I could distract her? Lead her off somewhere till Buffy found us. Yeah, because I could totally run that long.

There was a crash of ceramic falling to the floor, and a familiar "Shoot!" from a room that fell square in between me and Veruca. We met each other's gaze and lunged for the door. I knew I didn't have a chance, she grabbed me and planted a solid punch to my jaw. I staggered back, fuck that hurt.

By the time I had recollected my senses the door had closed, and there was a distinct click as she locked it behind her. There were no huge windows in it for me to break, just a long thin slit, filled with glass and crossed with wire.

"Willow!" I screamed, banging at the door, "Willow!" she jumped. I don't think she even saw me before Veruca landed the first hit. Oh god, she was going to die, "Willow!" I screamed again, the word tearing at my throat. I don't know what yelling for her was supposed to do, let her know I would be there for her while she got mauled? I could hear the thuds, and the sharp cracks as Veruca struck her. A kick, a slap, Willow was on the ground, bathed in the dying red light. Her eyes were squeezed shut, hands over head, waiting for the next blow. There was nothing I could do.

"Willow!" I screamed, and someone screamed with me. Hands pushed me out of the way, and there was a sharp snap of the lock breaking. Oz.

I dashed in behind him, going for Willow as he ripped Veruca away. It all happened so fast as red faded into a dusky purple, and the air was filled with the sound of bones and ligaments popping into place, and deep throaty growls.

"Come on," I whispered, pulling her towards the door, "We need to get out."

"Oz," she said, not taking her eyes off of the wolves. I tugged at her again, the brawl was vicious, flying claws and teeth much larger than I would want near me. We didn't need to get caught up in that.

"Willow!" I stage whispered, we had to leave. There was a heavy crash as the wolves tumbled over the desks, I could hardly tell who was who. Just as quickly as it had started, it ended with the wet sound of flesh being torn from bone and blood. The red light was gone from the sky, but now it was leaking out over the white linoleum. The only sound in the entire world, were the choked gurgles coming from Veruca as she slid to the ground.

"Oz." Willow was on the verge of tears, she stepped towards him.

The wolf turned, muzzle painted red, and snarled. Oz wasn't home. The wolf lunged for Willow, teeth bared.

Growls turned into a high pitched yelp, and he backed off, stumbling to the ground. I was hit with a wave of relief, Buffy stood in the doorway, tranquilizer gun in hand.

"Oz." Willow's voice trembled and cracked, Buffy brushed past me. Grabbing her best friend, and sinking to the floor with her. Each strangled sob seemed to echo around the room, as Willow clung to Buffy. I felt helpless watching them kneeling in the darkened chem lab amongst the slowly stretching tendrils of blood. It looked black now.


	4. Timing

**Fourth chapter, good deal more Spike in this one, as well as in the following two chapters that I'd already had written.**

 **Chapter Four - Timing**

It had been a while since I'd actually spent a full day at school, and even then the class here and there hadn't been the most common occurrence. It had been a weird couple of days, Oz was gone, Willow was devastated, and I don't know...watching one of your best friends kill something that doesn't immediately turn into a pile of dust...it's unsettling. It felt all too human a death for a monster. I wonder how I would die, big bang of golden light? Poof of glitter? Collapse into a puddle of goo? Would it be just as human as Veruca's?

I had almost made it through the day, wandering through the long rows of beige painted metal from trailer to trailer. Just one more class, English. God I hoped Dylan wasn't there, it would be nice if we sat across the room from each other, but instead we were smack dab in the middle of the overcrowded class practically pressed up against each other. I hadn't seen him since I stood him up, and then he stood me up. Right now I wasn't particularly in the mood to see anyone, much less the guy that I had spent over a week with in a state of unspoken, unseen, awkwardness.

I had taken my sweet time on my way to the English trailer, slipping through the door with maybe a minute before the bell was going to ring. Most of the seats were already occupied, and I practically had to perform Swan Lake to get to my desk. No Dylan, at least there was no Dylan. I pulled out all of my things, and the small amount of homework I had actually made up, as opposed to the large stack sitting on my bed at home. Just this last class, and I was done.

The bell rang, and just as I thought as I was safe to spend my last fifty minutes in hell peacefully. Dylan sat down. I tried not to look at him, and keep my eyes on the teacher instead, but I kept catching myself trying to get a glimpse out of my peripheral vision.

"Hey," he whispered, shooting a look at the teacher to make sure she wasn't paying attention, "Can I talk to you? After class."

"Yeah," I said, not quite meeting his gaze.

The class seemed to drag on and on after that. I wasn't focusing so much as I was absentmindedly tapping my pencil to the beat of the butterflies in my stomach. I was expecting him to ignore me, I was expecting to pretend to ignore him while I internally tried not to explode. I was not expecting him to want to talk. I almost dreaded the bell ringing, stupid Dylan, that was supposed to be the highlight of my day.

After what seemed like hours we were dismissed, the teacher yelling last minute instructions over the clatter of chairs and zipping backpacks. Dylan waited politely beside me while I packed up, and wove precariously through the cramped desks right along with me.

"So, I wanted to talk to you," he said once we were outside the trailer, "You've been kind of hard to find lately."

"I'm sorry. About our date, there was an emergency my friend was drunk. I needed to keep her from doing something stupid, I wanted to tell you, but she was running off and you were in the bathroom" I rambled, fiddling with the straps on my backpack, "And there's been some stuff going on the past couple days, so I haven't been able to make it to school. But you aren't innocent either! I waited at The Bronze for hours, and you didn't show up!"

His brow furrowed, "I was there, I looked for you."

"What time did you get there?" I asked, there was a sinking feeling forming in my stomach.

"Nine." This was Giles' fault.

"I'm sorry, something came up, I thought you weren't coming -" I started.

"No, no it's fine," he smiles, "Maybe we could do something this weekend?"

Oh thank God, he didn't hate me, "I'm going to a party tomorrow night, we're trying to cheer up a friend, but you're more than welcome to come with."

"Yeah, yeah that sounds fun. Where is it?" He asked.

"It's on the UCS campus, um Lowell House I think," I said, I really hoped I got the name right, if we ended up going to different parties I think I would just sit down and cry.

"A frat party?" Oh gosh, I should have known Foie Gras boy wouldn't want to hang with drunk college lunk heads. I wasn't even sure if I wanted to hang out with drunk college lunk heads.

"Yeah, I have a lot of friends in college," I said, "I'm kind of obligated to go, but if you would rather not, maybe if you're not busy sunday?"

"No, the party sounds great." He grinned, the dimples on his cheeks were showing again.

* * *

Should I wear a dress? Or just stick with jeans and a nice shirt or something? I stared at the two outfits I had laid out on the bed, it was like they were staring right back at me. I didn't want to be the girl with the holes in her pants again, but it was just a frat party. It was seven thirty, I was supposed to meet him in less than an hour. Alright, I just needed to choose something, and go. Dressy? Casual?

I grabbed the dress and held it up in the mirror, the black material made me look even paler than I was. Which for living in California, was pretty damn pale. I sighed and dropped it to the ground and grabbed the pants instead.

I was nearly out the door when the phone rang, it was seven fifty, I didn't want to be late. My track record with timing and this guy was already awful. Stalking over to the phone I picked it up.

"Hello," I said flatly.

"Marley? Hi, sweetie, how are you?" Joyce, I hadn't had a call from her in days.

"Hi! I'm doing fine, great, how are you?" I asked, my tone a bit more chipper.

"I'm doing okay, I'm ready to come home though," she said, she sounded sleepy.

"Well, you've only got a couple more months."

"Oh don't remind me." She laughed, "How are you doing on food? Do you have everything you need?"

"I ran out of the food you made." She laughed, "It was really good." It had been good, I had run out of it nearly two weeks ago now. I was living off of canned ravioli… I probably should go out to the store at some point. Ravioli was suiting me just fine though, ravioli and cheese puffs.

"That was supposed to last you till I got back," she said.

"Well it almost made it." Almost.

"Have you been remembering to shop then?" She asked.

"Yep," I lied, "I was just about to go out for a bit, I can pick up some stuff on the way back."

"Alright, be careful. Call me tomorrow, I need some errands run"

"I will."

* * *

I was going to be late if I didn't hurry, but if I ran I would get sweaty, and my make-up would smudge, and then it would be the pink underwear all over again. I was nearly to campus, maybe ten minutes from Lowell House, and I wouldn't doubt that Dylan was already there. He had a bad habit of being punctual.

Things had been quiet since everything had happened with Oz, I'm sure there were vamps out, but I wasn't hearing much about them. I assume Buffy was just taking care of it on her own for the most part. Which was fine, I hadn't been in much of a mood for demons lately...which I guess means I wasn't in the mood for myself? I'm certain the party would help; dancing, Dylan, drinking when Buffy wasn't looking. The last frat party I had gone to didn't go over so well, you know, hell house and all that, but I had a good feeling about this one.

Damn it, I really was going to be late. I was supposed to be there in a couple minutes, there was a shortcut, but it went through the trails instead of the paved paths. Did I want to risk it? They weren't all that well lit, I could end up coming out with holes in my pants...again. I glanced down at my watch, yeah it was worth, I didn't want him thinking I stood him up for a third time. I turned down the little path, and started to wave my hands in front of me. I didn't want to get a face full of spider today, thank you very much.

I couldn't have gotten a useful demonic power? Like night vision, super speed, the ability to teleport? No, I just fucking exploded every once in a while. It was cool, only mildly inconvenient. I forgot how dark the dark was, I was practically blind and just praying I didn't hit a tree or something. I knew the shortcut pretty well, so I was almost certain I had taken the right turn. It wouldn't be long before I made it to Lowell House.

I was making such a racket, blindly stumbling through the woods, I almost didn't notice the sound of a somewhat smaller racket moving steadily behind me. Almost. I knew this was a mistake, I'd lived in Sunnydale for three years now, you'd have thought I would have learned not to walk in the woods alone at night. I tried to ignore the quickening thud of my heart, and walked faster. If I could just make it to the path I would be within screaming distance of a slayer. I was half speed walking half jogging now, if I tripped over a root I was so screwed.

I could hear it breathing, stupid, stupid, Marley. You knew better than this. I broke through the undergrowth into a clearing. This was not where I wanted to be, this was not concrete lit by streetlamps. This was grass, and trees, and really dim moonlight, and a - shit! The demon broke through the tree line, I couldn't see details, but huge ass mother fucker would probably be the most accurate description I could give.

It hadn't been running that fast before had it? The thing moved rather gracefully for a demon of its size and stature, and now it was moving rather gracefully right at me, and then it bowled right past me. Well, that was a surprise. What the hell would something that size be running from? I decided that it might be in my best interest to run too, I took off after the demon, it probably had a better idea of where this thing was coming from.

The demon hadn't gotten very far before I was catching up to it, we were about to head back into the trees. I couldn't run this fast when I couldn't see...did demons give piggy back rides? I mean, I was a demon too, there's got to be some sort of supernatural solidarity there or something. I risked glancing back, there were several dark figures - human sized from the looks of it - spread across the field and coming at us. They didn't look too imposing, but if gigantor was scared I was going to trust him.

Apparently looking back had been a bad idea, because suddenly my feet were caught up in each other, and I was heading towards the ground, and the demon's feet were getting caught up on me. We tumbled to the dirt, I couldn't breath, this guy had to be at least three hundred pounds, and a lot of it was on my chest. Before either of us had a chance to move a shock ripped through me. If I hadn't had the paper weight from satan on me I would have convulsed and screamed, everything in my body felt like it was twisting around needles.

I could hear voices now, human ones. It wasn't dark anymore, everything was bathed in a soft golden light. It was pretty, like summer mornings with stars. The demon was rolled away, but the pressure didn't leave, I still couldn't move a thing.

"Cooper, make sure the civvy is okay." The voice sounded faint.

A face entered my field of vision, "Sir! I don't think it's a civilian, come look at its eyes!"

I couldn't see the others, but I could hear their footsteps, boots surrounded my head. They were just little dark smudges on the edge; like in elementary school when you tried to outline a picture of the sun with a black crayon, but when you tried to color it yellow it bled in and made it all ugly.

"Bag it."

* * *

I groaned and closed my eyes tighter, it was too bright. It couldn't be morning yet, just a few more minutes. That's all I needed, a few more minutes of sleep. I must have had a terrible night's sleep last night, I felt stiff everywhere, even my bed felt like a board. At least there weren't any birds chirping, just a couple people screaming...wait. I must have been one massive bruise, my whole body protested as I dragged myself into a sitting position. Where the hell was I?

The whole place was white. White walls, white floors, bright white fluorescent lights. I was in some sort of cell, I think. It was a piss poor excuse for a cell at that - maybe excluding the exceptional flooring materials - no bed, no toilet, not even a blanket or a pillow. It was cold too, the halter top wasn't really cutting it.

"You know," a familiar british accent drawled, "I was wondering when someone would put the little bird in its cage. It's about time."

Slowly I turned to look through the glass of my cell, and into the one across from mine. How? What did I do to deserve this? Spike had a smug little smile on his face, lips pressed tightly together. His prison was just as sparse as mine, separated by two panes of glass and six feet of pristine white hallway. Must be hellishly strong glass if Spike hadn't broken through it yet.

"What is this made of?" I asked standing and slowly reaching out to touch it, I yelped and leaped back. I had been hoping not to be electrocuted again today, or was it tomorrow now? Spike burst into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls.

"Oh come on," I glared, "Like that didn't get you too?"

"It was just funnier when you got it, love," he said, watching me with the same fucking smirk.

"So where are we?" I asked, it sounded like he'd been here longer than I had been.

"Dunno, I thought this was some scoobie deal," he said, looking around at what was visible from his cell.

Now it was my turn to laugh, "You thought a highschool student, two college kids, the weiner shack guy, and an unemployed librarian could afford this?" God how stupid was he?

"You could have gotten funding," he sounded a bit sheepish now. I scoffed, in three years of fighting demons I don't think I'd heard anything more absurd. Even if the council was rich, they were sure stingy with their money. My laughter died down and I sighed.

"So how are we getting out?" I asked.

"We?" He looked incredulous, "What do you mean we? When I get out of here, I'm leaving you to rot. See how long it takes the canary to croak."

"You're an asshole you know that?"

"Oh I'm sorry, did you think we were going to have tea and biscuits? I'm evil, bitch!" I glared at him, and opened my mouth to shoot back a response that I suddenly realized wasn't there. God I wished I could punch him, just rip that stupid grin right off his face. Not knowing what to say I turned away and sat down facing the wall instead.

I had moved to the corner, face pressed against the wall trying to ignore Spike. Now that I had had time to come to I was starting to sort out my aches and pains. I think I preferred being groggy. My head hurt, my neck hurt, my back felt like it had been dragged across a bed of nails, there was a sharp twinge in my stomach every time I shifted. I'm not sure how much time had passed, it could have been hours since I'd woken up, but they hadn't provided the courtesy of a clock. Instead they stole my watch, it was my nice one too, a birthday gift from Joyce.

Oh god, I'd stood Dylan up again. He'd seemed so chill about it the other day, but I wasn't sure how I was going to explain away this one. Got kidnapped and put in a jail with my fellow demon brethren, yes that would be so convincing. I was tired and hungry, I'm not sure if it was just the passing time or the after effects of getting manhandled by the commandos. All I wanted was a cheeseburger and a nap, cheese burger didn't seem to be an option, so I tried to curl closer to the wall.

I winced as the pain in my stomach came back, fed up I pulled my shirt back, "Fucking hell!" I growled, my stomach had an 'I' shaped set of cuts haphazardly stitched together, "They cut me open! Who the hell does that?"

"I don't know I'd give it a shot, see what's under the hood," Spike said in a voice I could only describe as smarmy, I glared at him, and he returned it with a grin as he licked his lips, "give you a good poke."

"Shut up, Spike." I muttered, leaning my head back against the wall. Had Buffy realized I was gone? Had anyone realized I was gone? I lived alone now, I could've died back at the house and been eaten by neighborhood cats before someone found me. She would try to find me right? Where ever I was...I could be in the middle of Nevada for all I knew.

"What, are you gonna make me?" Spike said and laughed, why couldn't he just leave me alone?

"You know what? Talk to yourself all you want, jackass. I'm taking a nap."

"Whatever you say, Bird." There was a moment of utter perfect silence, nothing but the hum of fluorescent lights; and then he started on a surprisingly long rant of rather vulgar names, implications, and slurs. Lulled me right to sleep.

* * *

I dreamt of cheeseburgers. Eating them, putting ketchup on them, pulling the melty cheese right off the wrapper, shoving one down Spike's throat and watching him choke. It felt so real, I could practically smell it. The rich meaty scent of highly processed beef, that was the stuff. I was sad to return to the world of plain white things, and evil things that were nearly as pale. I could still smell that burger though, that perfect perfect burger. Shit I could see that burger, neatly wrapped in the center of the floor. Tempting me with those perfectly curved buns - wait. That was a burger.

I ignored the stiffness in my body in favor of the small tiger in my stomach, and scrambled towards the precious food. Oh it was still warm, the paper crinkled like heavenly wings wrapped around a meat angel. With no hesitation I ripped the wings off and lifted it to my mouth.

"That's been drugged ya know," Spike said from his spot leaning against the wall near the glass. No, I would not let him ruin this for me, I was so hungry. I lifted it towards my mouth again, "Fine, let the good doctors play hacky sack with your kidneys for all I care." He turned to stare at the wall in front of him again. God he was such an ass, I just wanted to throw something at that stupid face of his. Before I could think my hamburger was sailing through the air and sizzling against the glass, blue sparks flying everywhere.

It was like when you were pissed at your mom, and she made dinner as a consolation, but you refused to touch it out of pride. It looked delicious, and you felt mad at yourself and the cookie on the edge of the plate more than anything, but you wouldn't lower yourself to temptation. As much as I wanted it, there was no way I would let Spike sit there and giggle as I crawled on my hands and knees for burnt burger scraps.

This was his fault.

"I thought you said it was drugged." I glowered at him as he picked up the bag of blood that had just dropped from his ceiling, I was still mourning the loss of my burger.

"That's why I'm not eating it," he said, ripping the top off of the plastic.

"Then what the hell are you doing?" I asked. He didn't respond, apparently too busy just pouring it on his face. It was getting everywhere, his clothes, his neck, the floor was going to be stained. I could smell the coppery scent from here.

"Getting out." With that, he rather dramatically collapsed.

If he had been alive I would have thought he was dead. He was rather good at playing unconscious, absolutely perfectly still. He didn't move a muscle, not even when a bunch men in white coats started dragging him onto a gurney. It was a matter of seconds before he was in motion again, yellow eyes, and bumpy face in all their glory. The scientists screamed as they scrambled away, Spike was snarling a vicious grin twisting across his mouth.

The men were fumbling with their coat pockets as Spike stalked towards them, shoving the gurney out of the way, all swagger and flair. What a pretentious ass. The smaller one came at him with what appeared to be a syringe, and almost looked surprised when Spike caught his hand. For someone who studied demons, he wasn't particularly educated on the reflexes of vampires. Practically before I could blink the syringe was in the man's neck, and Spike was on the next scientist injecting him with the rest of the liquid. They were out in seconds.

"Still trying to keep the slayer off your back huh?" I asked, standing to move closer to the glass. He looked at me, "You didn't kill them."

"This is Special Ops, love, not Sweeny Todd. I'm trying to get out, not sheer open the throat of every man who ticked me off this week." He growled, and turned to leave.

"Hey! Aren't you going to get me out?" I called, trying not to lean against the glass on instinct.

"Nope!"

"I'm going to escape eventually!" I yelled.

"Oh, and then what? You gonna sick your precious slayer on me?" He laughed.

"You're really thick aren't you?" He tilted his head, looking slightly offended, "You haven't wondered why I'm in here yet?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a card off one of the white coats, "You bloody owe me, Bird."

"Noted," I said as the glass slid to the side and I dashed out after him.

I followed behind him as we wove through white hall after white hall, half of them lined with demons and vamps that howled and banged as we ran by, more than a few were blown back when they hit the glass. I had come to the conclusion that he actually had no idea where he was going, sadly neither did I.

"Do we have a plan?" I asked, trying not to sound out of breath.

"Yeah, I have a plan."

"You planning on sharing your plan?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Find an exit," he said, whipping around another corner.

"Oh look out, we've got a real genius right here," I said, a slight pant starting to slip into my voice. He ran really fucking fast.

We rounded yet another corner, only to be faced with four or five of the commando boys. We all stopped, watching each other silently. There was a hallway that broke off between us and them, it was that or turn back. I was all for turning back, but Spike grabbed the halter part of my halter top and yanked me forward. I really had no other choice if I wanted to avoid a somewhat awkward situation. We were running at them full speed, and then I was going a bit faster as he practically threw me towards them.

I twisted about and grabbed his arms, "Oh no you don't you son of a bitch!" I yelled and brought him down with me, before rolling to my feet. The soldier boys were almost on us, so I grabbed Spike by the collar and started running. As much as I would have loved to have left him, my 'secret power' was really fucking useless until they tried to put a bullet in my brain.

Alarms were going off, the lights painting the white walls red; and joy of all joys, a very heavy steel door was closing in front of us. A hand closed over the back of my neck and shoved me down and we slid under just as it slammed shut.

"Move!" Spike yelled, dragging me back to my feet, and we took off again.

When we finally emerged, and I mean emerged right from the ground like...groundhogs, it was dark. Which frankly didn't tell me a lot. It could have been the same night, it could have been days, I had no clue how long they had kept me under. We were on campus though, not far from the quad. We nodded to each other a bit stiffly and went our separate ways. Me to find out what day it was, he was probably going to go eat someone.

Maybe I would be lucky, and the Lowell house would still be having their party, and I could pretend this didn't happen. Maybe, after I found a few ice packs. Maybe I would be really unlucky, and the Lowell house would be having a party, just a different one, because it had been a week. It wasn't far, so it was worth a shot. Trying to ignore the protests of my ill-treated body, I started walking towards the frat houses.

The house was dark, maybe one or two windows had a faint light pouring out, but definitely no partying was occurring. No chance of surprising Dylan by actually showing up for once. I sighed, and turned around, deciding to make the arduous trek to Buffy's dorm. I still felt cold, and the stitches in my abdomen stretched uncomfortably when I walked with too large a stride. At this point I think I was just ready to go home and sleep.

Actually, I think I would just crash with Buffy I decided as I walked into the dorm. Just a few more flights of stairs till I could hijack someone's bed. The halls were mostly dark, I hadn't been able to find a clock yet. Buffy had a clock though, gotta fucking love clocks….I was so tired.

The door was locked. Damn it. I knocked, and waited, knocked a bit harder, waited a bit less. Until a rather sleepy looking Willow appeared in the door.

"Marley!" She squealed and threw her arms around me, I did my best not to hiss in pain, "Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you! You didn't show up the party, and you weren't at the house, or the school, and you don't have friends -" I raised a finger cutting her off.

"Explain later, sleep first." I said, blinking rather heavily. She nodded and pulled me into her room, Buffy's bed was empty, she must have been out patrolling or something.

It was three thirty. Maybe I'd ask about the day tomorrow.

* * *

It was light. God, was it morning already? It felt like I had only been asleep for a few minutes. I forced my eyes open, the windows were still dark. I let my eyes close again, Buffy must be back. I was almost asleep again when that fucking british accent intruded on my nice almost sleep. No! No, he wasn't allowed to fucking do this.

My muscles protested as I dragged myself into a half sitting position so I could glare at him properly, "Spike, for the love of God, not now. I don't care what you want, just come back in a couple hours."

"Not gonna happen, love." Willow was starting to wake up in the other bed.

"Fine, I think Xander installed Doom on Buffy's laptop. Knock yourself out, we can do this when I wake up."

"Alright, I'll let you sleep, Lil' Bird," he said, and I collapsed back into Buffy's bed. That was easier than expected. I closed my eyes, and once again was almost asleep when Willow screamed. Fucking hell. I leapt up, Spike was leaning over her, a hand firmly grasped around each arm, pinning her to the mattress.

"Spike, this is not what I meant!" I rushed over, and tried to drag him off of her. He raised a hand and batted me back, I landed awkwardly against Buffy's bed, causing a sharp pain in my abdomen.

"This doesn't concern you, Bird."

"Oh like hell it doesn't, get off of her," I said.

"Yeah, get off of me." Willow piped up.

"Hush, Red," he growled, "Bird, you owe me."

"I was going to buy you a beer! Not let you eat my friends!" I yelled. He shrugged and lunged forward to bite. I was about to jump at him again when he staggered back, absolutely howling. He tried again, and again, each time with the same result. I made eye contact with Willow, she looked just as pleasantly dumbfounded as I did.

"What the bloody hell did they do to me?" He asked, sitting heavily on Willow's bed.

"Looks like they gave you a poke too, huh Spike?" I grinned, the bastard deserved it.

This guy could complain a lot, my eyes were drooping as we listened to him bemoan his poor pathetic existence. Took him long enough to realize it. Willow seemed slightly more sympathetic, just slightly. I sighed, staring out the window. It was dark still, it was only four o'clock, so it would be for a while. God, I just wanted to go back to sleep, when would he shut up?

"Well, you should probably leave. Sun rises soon, it would be tragic if you got frittered," I said, standing up to show him the door.

"I'm having a crisis!" He said, glaring at me.

"And I'm having a severe case of apathy! Now leave before I -" The lights went out, "Now look what you did!"

"What the hell did I have to do with this?" Spike asked, standing. There was a rush of footsteps outside the door, and the electronic crackling of an intercom.

"Hostiles seventeen and twenty eight have been located, they will be collected and returned to base." My head shot up. Spike and I were looking at each other, and I couldn't quite see details, but I'm certain the 'oh shit' expression was mutual. Before either of us could say a thing, the door burst open and I was knocked to the side.

I didn't even have time to think before there was a bag on my head, and hands grabbing me. I screamed, kicked out, but nothing seemed to work. They had Spike too, I could have heard him cursing from outside. Was Willow okay? They didn't seem to have qualms with humans.

"She could have been infected," a voice said from somewhere beyond the confines of my bag.

"I don't see any bite marks -" Someone else started, but before he could finish the thought there was a bit of a ruckus. Spike must have broken loose, from the shouting, and the defiant british insults. I was thrown to the side when the shooting started, shoulder hitting painfully against the wall. I ripped off my bag only to find an equally difficult to see through fog filling the hallway. I had just wanted to sleep.

It took a moment to find Willow in the fog, and the people who seemed to be kicking at nothing, and the flashing lights. Finally my hand closed around hers.

"Hide?" I asked.

"Hide." She nodded, and we crawled back towards the dorm. There were yells, and the sounds of a good ass kicking coming from outside the room, it was hard to see, but the kicker definitely wasn't Spike. They were starting to retreat, and then they were gone, boots tramping off into the distance.

"Willow?" Buffy's voice called into the room, "Willow are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, standing up and dragging me with her, "Look who I found."


	5. Bears and Boys

**Fifth chapter, also plenty of Spike, the next chapter is the last one I have pre-written, so it'll be a little while before the seventh is out. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Five - Bears and Boys**

How many potatoes could Buffy possibly need? I wasn't sure how much longer the paper bag was going to hold out. I had promised I'd get the stuff on her list, but no I never thought to read it first, tell her she was going crazy. There were six of us, we didn't need five pounds of potatoes alone. I hugged the bags to my chest, it was another five minutes to Giles' place, and the bags were slipping. If I dropped these now I would just sit down and cry.

"You look like you could use some help." A pair of hands alleviated me of the potato bag. Dylan, oh no. I hadn't been to school, by the time I got out of the secret underground monster jail we'd only had a couple days before break. I hadn't seen the point of bothering.

I opened my mouth, trying to find words to use, "Thank - um - hi."

"You haven't been at school," he said, adjusting his grip on the bag, "You weren't at the party either."

"Look, I'm sorry. I don't have a good excuse-" I started.

"If you don't want to do this, you can just-"

"No! No, I do - I do want to - Life has just been kind of weird…" I trailed off. A group of guys were watching us from the other side of the street. I swallowed heavily, and tried to avoid eye contact. They were dressed like regular people, and part of me hoped they were just creepers, but another part was guessing they probably weren't. Regular creepers were hard to come by in Sunnydale; they all had to have fangs, or semi-automatic weapons and a secret base.

Dylan was watching me, green eyes filled with what could have either been concern or annoyance. I might have been able to lie about why I'd stood him up, but being run down by men with guns was a whole nother thing. I spared a glance at commandos one through five, they were passing around a bag of chips, talking in a circle. It would've been inconspicuous if one didn't have the imprint of a pistol against his jeans. I almost wished he was just happy.

"I am so sorry - about everything- but I need to go. It's Thanksgiving, and here," I reached for my bag, "I can just take that."

"No. No I can carry it for you, my family's out of town so I don't really have anywhere to be-" I tuned him out as he continued to talk. The guys were looking over more frequently, one had a radio. I decided it was high time that we left, and grabbed Dylan by the arm and started dragging him behind me.

"You know what? That's great, let's go." I said, glancing back as we rounded the corner. The commandos were following behind, one was talking into his radio. Probably calling in reinforcements or something. You know what? This was all Dylan's fault. If he hadn't guilted me into feeling bad about being late I never would have been captured in the first place. If Dylan wasn't such a damned nice person, I would have made it to Giles' before they'd seen me, and everything would be okay.

"I feel bad, inviting myself over for-" Dylan started as I pulled him along at an increasing pace.

"No it's fine. Plenty to go around, just hurry up okay?" I said. I had no idea how we were going to lose them, short of jumping in a manhole, but I don't think Buffy would be happy if I brought home sewer potatoes. I glanced back again, they were gaining. We were two blocks from Giles', maybe we could pass it, and circle around? God, I didn't want to get captured again. The incisions they'd made were just starting to heal, and from what I saw when I was down there my next hallmate could be worse company than Spike.

I could see the apartment now, and the commandos were still getting closer. I was so screwed. This was it, no Spike to pull me out this time, they'd fiddle with my insides and play with my brain till I died and killed half of them in a burst of golden light. Maybe, if I dropped the groceries and just ran, let Dylan think what he wants. They'd still catch up, but I'd go down with dignity instead of a bag of carrots. I was just about to take off when I heard the rumble of an incredibly outdated car. Giles.

I grabbed Dylan's arm again, and ran out into the road. I wasn't going to die! The rickety old thing screeched to a stop, and I flung open the back seat, shoving Dylan and bags in before sliding in and slamming the door behind me.

"Marley what is-" Giles had turned to look at me.

"Drive!" I growled, poking his cheek to make him look forward. He complied, his car groaning as we accelerated away. A knot that had been steadily growing in my chest disappeared, and I leaned back with a smile. No crazy commandos today, we could just have a nice normal Thanksgiving, "Go around the block please," I said, "Or around town, around town might be better."

"Marley, what was that?" Dylan asked, he was staring at me like I was crazy.

"Oh you know, too much sun, not good for the...follicles…" Maybe I am crazy, what the hell was I saying.

"I have to say Marley, I'm also intrigued as to why I found you in the middle of the road?" Giles sounded mildly peeved.

"Oh you know, just trying to get back before _Buffy had to come after me,"_ I said, " _Guns_ blazing. You know how she is about Thanksgiving, she's send _a whole army_ after me _._ " I made eye contact with Giles through the rearview mirror, he nodded.

"Yes, yes we may have to talk with her later - about her behavior." He added quickly.

Dylan still looked horribly confused, "So you've been acting weird, because your…"

"Sister...kind of," I said.

"Really likes Thanksgiving?"

"Yes." I liked through my teeth.

"Marley!" Buffy practically yelled as we came in the door, "Where have you been? I needed those groceries hours ago -"

"It's only been twenty -" I tried to defend myself, but she kept on going.

"Now the squash for the casserole won't marinate properly! And -"

"Squash?" I asked. Oh no, this wasn't good.

Buffy paused, taking in a deep breath, and then in a terrifyingly quiet voice, "You forgot the squash?" She had the burning slayer fury in her eyes, you know, canned ravioli didn't sound like a bad Thanksgiving dinner, "Marley I asked for one thing! All I needed was for you to buy some vegetables! It wasn't that hard! I have been working very hard, to give us all a nice Thanksgiving, and we already have a crazy-" I started coughing heavily, and shook my head towards Dylan. Native American curses were kind of on more of a need to know basis.

Dylan's hand closed around my shoulder, "Hey are you okay, do you need water?" I shook my head, and he nodded, "Is there a bathroom?" He asked.

"In there," Giles said, and Dylan thanked him, slinking out of the room. Everyone watched with stiff silence as he disappeared around the corner, and the bathroom door clicked shut.

"He is not to know anything!" I whispered jabbing my finger in the air for emphasis, "Anya, no demon references. Willow, no spells. We don't talk about commandos. We don't talk about the friendly neighborhood Native warrior, and Xander just has the flu," I said, looking pointedly at each of them, "I have put in a moderate amount of work to keep him the dark, and for me that is a lot! I will not have you idiots scaring him off with your damned mumbo jumbo."

"Aren't you technically made of mumbo jumbo? Demon and everything?" Xander said, from his place bundled on the couch.

"Yes, but he doesn't know that," I hissed, glancing at the hall, "So we're all going to sit down, shut up, and have a nice normal Thanksgiving!"

"Well now you're just starting to sound like Buffy," Anya said.

Both me and the aforementioned slayer turned on her, and said in unison, "What is that supposed to mean?"

* * *

Moratorium on the magic talk aside, Buffy was still allowed to go all turkey crazy on us. Current orders were to mash potatoes, and mashing I was. Everyone else had been given dinner duties too; Willow was setting the table, Giles was making the cheesey potato medallions, even Dylan was cutting asparagus. I'm not sure why we even had asparagus, literally no one here liked asparagus. Buffy was supposedly making some special sauce that needed extra precision that we weren't capable of. Mostly she just yelled a lot.

I slammed the fork through the potatoes again, the metal clacking against the bottom of the bowl. Lucky Xander with his syphilis, he didn't have to do anything. At least no one had gone off on any magic babble yet, I had put too much effort into lying into this boy. I didn't need all of that ruined today.

"You weren't kidding," Dylan whispered.

"What?" I asked.

"About Buffy, you weren't kidding, she really takes Thanksgiving seriously."

I laughed, glancing over at her, she was currently berating Giles about the amount of cheese he was putting on the potatoes, "Yeah, it normally isn't like this." Most Thanksgivings Joyce was in charge, and Joyce was generally a bit more put together.

"So...this is a lot of asparagus," he said, dropping another handful in the pan.

"Yeah. I hope you like it."

"Hate it," He said, slicing another sprig neatly down the middle.

"Foie Gras boy hates asparagus?" I asked, who would have thought. I thought he was supposed to be all fancy, asparagus was fancy. I think.

"Foie Gras tastes good."

"It's the liver of a an obese goose, how is that supposed to be good?"

"I thought you said you liked it," He said with a laugh.

"I lied...had to look it up when I got home." I could feel a blush spread across my cheeks.

"How about next time we just get burgers?" He was smiling, dimples and sparkling green eyes and all.

"I'd like that." I said, grinning back at him. There was a heavy pounding at the door, and everyone looked up. It came again, "I'll get it!" I said, I was tired of mashing. "Here," I said, handing the bowl of potatoes to Dylan, "I don't think we're going to need any more asparagus."

I opened the door to see Spike. Of course, who else was going to show up? Walt Disney? He looked like shit. Dark circles under bloodshot eyes, blanket draped over him, he looked like was going to drop dead...deader. Looks like whatever poking they did had some pretty adverse effects for him.

"Please," he croaked, "Please, just let me in." He looked pathetic.

"Um, no."

"Bird please, I am begging you. You know I don't take that lightly," He pleaded, pulling the blanket higher over his head, glancing up at the sky. Oh no it was sunny out, whatever would he do?

"I'm about to get deep fried out here, Little Bird -"

"I'm astounded by how little I care."

"Soldier boys are out in force today. Like bloody gnats they are." He said, hunching over farther.

"So?" I asked. I didn't see how this was my problem, there were plenty of very nice sewers he could hide in. In fact, there was one right outside below the street. He had no need to come in and ruin a perfectly horrible Thanksgiving.

"You owe me," He said, making sure to maintain eye contact. I took in a deep breath, and glanced back at Dylan who was diligently mashing away at the potatoes. I didn't really want Dylan around my friends, there was no way I wanted him around Spike. The vamp was a son of a bitch, but he did get me out of bleached hell.

"I'll talk to Giles. He's the one who can let you in, I'm not making any promises," I said, starting to close the door, "There's some bushes for you to hide under over there, no one wants to have to sweep you up." The door clicked shut, and I turned around. Anya and Xander were too preoccupied with his syphilis to have noticed, and everyone else was still being whipped into holiday shape by Buffy.

Did I really have to do this? How much longer would Spike last out there? If I was really lucky he would dust under one of the plants, there had to be some sort of nutrients in his ashes. Vampy fertilizer. He'd essentially saved my life, but he'd also tried to kill me three or four times. He'd only rescued me once, and even then he tried throw me to the hounds. I owed him though. Next time I needed something from Spike, I was going to have to remind myself not to.

"Giles?" I said quietly, glancing at Buffy who was tasting the mashed potatoes next to a somewhat frightened Dylan, "Could you do me a favor?"

"Why yes, of course." He said, dusting his hands of the cheese hd had been painstakingly removing from the potato medallions.

"Come invite Spike in for me." I tried to pull my lips in some semblance of a smile.

"Absolutely not." Giles was looking at me like I was insane, maybe I was. I wouldn't really want a mass murdering monster having free access to my house either. Oh wait, he already did.

"Giles please. He got me out of the base, I owe him."

"Marley, this is not something that is negotiable. I am not letting Spike into my home."

"Please," I begged, "The commandos are out looking for him, and quite frankly I don't trust Spike not to give me up."

Giles sighed and took off his glasses to polish, "Alright, but he's your responsibility."

"He's a vampire not a dog," I said trying to force down a laugh. I didn't need Buffy noticing, she wouldn't take it well.

"Well he is already neutered," Giles said with a smirk, and headed for the door. I went with him, pulling it open. Spike hadn't moved, apparently too good for squatting under bushes. He looked up with the most pitifully hopeful look I had ever seen on a vampire. I wondered how long he'd worked on that one, he had to be absolutely starving to get rid of that shitty attitude of his.

"Come in Spike," Giles sighed, opening the door wider for him to run past. He chucked the blanket to the ground and rose back up to his full height.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Buffy stormed in from the kitchen.

"Buffy-" Spike started.

"Shut up, I wasn't talking to you!" She snapped, "Marley what is he doing here?"

"Why are you looking at me? Giles let him in!" I said, pointing a finger at the watcher.

"To be fair, you begged me." Giles started polishing his glasses again.

"Buffy, could we talk about this somewhere else?" I asked, jerking my head towards Dylan. Her lips pursed, the pink skin turning white, but she nodded. Turning towards the hall to the bathroom, grabbing Spike's arm and dragging him along after her. He protested, earning a hard jab to the ribs. I sighed, and followed behind.

Dylan was watching from the kitchen, potatoes held in freeze frame. I didn't mean for the poor boy to get stuck in this...and this wasn't even the crazy part. I smiled at him, and gave an awkward little half wave before I disappeared around the corner. I was hoping that 'I'm sorry my family is made of crazy people', would be the message conveyed.

Spike's attitude was starting to shine through again, he had his arms crossed, and was glaring at anything save the slayer. Whatever did that poor carpet do to him? Buffy was rummaging through the closet, knocking things over more than she was actually searching.

"Marley, why the hell would you let Spike in? It's Thanksgiving," Buffy said, not looking up.

"He's a helpless asshole, but the asshole part has every ability to tell any gun toting hunter he meets where I live...and I kind of owed him a favor." Buffy grunted, apparently I'd provided an acceptable answer, that or she was too preoccupied with stuffing to get into an argument, "So what are you doing?"

"Getting some rope, we're going to have to sacrifice a chair to tie him on."

"Hey! Now I came here of my own free will, Slayer. Tying your guests up isn't-" Spike started, indignant.

"I don't care if you can't punch puppies anymore. I don't trust you," Buffy said, pulling a length of rope from the depths of the closet.

"Buffy, Dylan's over. Tying Spike to a chair seems a bit...conspicuous." There were more than a few things Dylan had just kind of gone with today, but tying some guy to a chair might draw questions I wasn't fully prepared to answer.

"Well what do you want me to do?" Buffy asked, letting the rope drop to the ground.

"Is there a way to handcuff him discretely?"

* * *

Things were cooking, honest to god cooking, and that meant for the first time I could sit. We were kind of short on chairs so I was seated on the floor, leaning against Dylan's legs. They were comfy and warm, and honestly a lot better than sitting at syphilis boy's feet, or next to Spike on the loveseat. He currently had his hands tied behind his back, and feet bound at the ankles. We'd covered him up in a blanket, and told Dylan he had the same flu that Xander had.

Spike was actually being good about keeping his mouth shut for once. It was nice just to relax, everyone was tired, and it was nice not to have any disturbances other than the occasional curse from Buffy. She was still in the kitchen, probably staring the turkey down as if that would make it cook faster. I'm pretty sure Xander was asleep in Anya's lap, and soft snores were coming from Willow's arm chair. Sleep didn't sound too bad.

I don't know what I had been so worried about, Dylan was a nice guy. The first few attempted dates had been unfortunate, but this was going to work out just fine. Me, and my pretty dimpled boy. Maybe he could be like new Oz, you know except not a werewolf, and mine instead of Willow's. We'd do research, and maybe stake a couple vamps, and then go home and he'd give me kisses. For now though, I think it was best he didn't know. Just for now, no need to scare him off too quickly.

I snuggled closer to his legs, closing my eyes, and letting out a small content sigh. I was a little chilly, but getting up for a blanket seemed like too much work. This was just fine. Dylan gently took a piece of my hair into his hand, twirling it around his finger, before letting it slide away. I tried not to moan as he ran his fingers through my hair, tracing patterns in my scalp, knuckles brushing over my ears as he tucked away stray strands. Fuck dinner, I thought as his nails softly grazed down the back of my neck, I could stay right here forever.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I'd been out, but it was dark outside, and my friendly head massage giving pillow was gone. I smacked my lips together, and tried to rub the bleariness from my eyes. In fact everyone was gone, everyone except Spike. Yipee for me. I seriously considered going back to sleep, and hoping he would go away, but then I remembered I was the one who suggested we handcuff him…and foot-cuff him. He wasn't going much of anywhere fast.

"Where is everyone?" I asked, stretching my arms up over my head.

"Your boy-toy's taking a piss. The slayer's still got herself in a huff, and has gramps arranging forks. Do yourself a favor, and go back to sleep Bird," He said, not really looking. Probably watching Buffy order Giles around, something about where the salad fork goes.

"That's not everyone," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest, and resting my chin on them.

"The rest of your scoobies went out. Something about a guy named Dean? They're being all hush hush 'bout it."

"Oh, okay." I curled back up, deciding I would rather sleep till dinner. Naps over napkins and shit.

"So, Bird, you're my host, entertain me." I could feel that stupid smile of his, I didn't need to have my eyes open.

"Why the hell can't you just call me Marley?" I asked, pressing my face closer to the couch cushion. I didn't feel like dealing with Spike right now, I could have stolen his blanket and let him burn, but no. Had to let him in the house.

"I've always called you bird. First time I met you, you practically sat on my shoulder and talked my ear off. Felt like a proper pirate, parrot and all."

"You broke into a high school, I'd hardly call that pirating," I said, stretching back out. It wasn't like Spike was going to let me sleep anyway, "And to be fair, if I'd tried to run away you'd have killed me."

"If you'd stayed much longer I'd have killed you," He said.

"I did stay. You're the one who got his ass beat."

"Fine, but you didn't have to talk so much." Oh like he was innocent of talking incessantly.

"I was stalling! I think I handled my first vampire very well for being fourteen," I said, crossing my arms.

"I was your first?" He asked, a smile that I would almost call charming spreading across his lips. I nodded, "I'm honored. Raise a hand to my heart if I could," he rattled the chains under his blanket, "but handcuffs and all."

"Understanda-" There was a hiss shortly followed by a thud, and Spike yelled. An arrow stuck out from his chest, probably closer to his heart than he was comfortable with. I ducked down lower behind the chair, I was a little more breakable than Spike, "Buffy!" I yelled, not wanting to risk peeking over the top of the chair. This was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Oh God, Dylan was in the bathroom. There was a heavy thump behind me, Spike must have fallen off the loveseat. How long till Dylan left the bathroom? Maybe I'd be lucky, and he was constipated, and would never even see this.

"I thought we were playing Pilgrims!" Spike growled, belly crawling up next to me, "Not Custer's last bloody stand. Now pull this out of me would you?" He said, propping up on one elbow so that the feathers were practically under my nose. Was he fucking serious? I had bigger problems than Spike being a pin cushion. Shit that was a plus.

"No," I said. Oh I should've let him burn. I wouldn't have owed him anything if he was dead. I could hear the twang of arrows, and more than a few things breaking when they landed. Buffy and Giles were yelling. Maybe Dylan would be smart and just hide in the bathroom. The toilet flushed, oh no.

"Hey is everything okay out here?" No, no, no, go back in the bathroom, "Oh shit!" I leapt up, and darted towards the hall. More than a couple arrows were embedded in the wall next to him wobbling up and down, making a wubbing noise I would have found comical if we weren't at risk of you know, dying. This was not what I wanted for my Thanksgiving, and I could blame most of it on Dylan. The rest of it was Xander for releasing curses, but I think syphilis was punishment enough.

"Move," I said, grabbing his arm, and pulling him back behind the corner.

"What the hell is happening?" Dylan whispered over the sound of someone getting throttled, and a yelp that I almost didn't want to believe was Spike. No I did, it was pretty amusing. Our mystical friends must have gotten into the house, which was slightly less amusing.

"Would you believe that we're just really into Thanksgiving?"

"Then I would have to believe that you're slightly racist!"

"Okay, look I can explain -" I was cut off by a yell as one of the Chumash rounded the corner, knife raised high. We scrambled back, cursing and screaming as he slammed his knife down where we had been seconds before. The warrior straightened up, wow he looked pissed. I mean he had every right to be pissed, but wow he looked pissed. He stalked forward, one deliberate step at a time, and we backed up correspondingly. That is until there was nowhere left to back. Shit, shit, what was I going to do? I looked at Dylan, he seemed just as terrified, and maybe slightly more confused.

"Buffy!" I yelled, the only response I got was the sound of a wooden table breaking. The warrior was closer now, within perfectly reasonable jumping distance. My eyes landed on the pretty oriental vase halfway in between us and him. Mustering my best battle cry, I grabbed the vase and ran at him. I brought it down on his head, the ceramic shattering into painted blue shards, and silk lilies.

"Come on!" I grabbed Dylan's hand and ran for the living room. Giles and Buffy seemed to be handling themselves...kind of. I pulled Dylan down behind the couches, laying next to Spike, "What are you still doing here?"

"Where did you think I'd be?" Spike asked, "Picking daisies? You got me tied up like a bloody pig. I'm about as useful as one anyways."

"Oh stop complaining you ass-" something roared. What the hell roared? Three heads popped up from behind the couch as we tried to get a look.

"A bear!" Spike yelled, "You made a sodding bear!"

"What is happening!?" Dylan yelled back.

"Hell if I know, pretty boy. Slayer doesn't like telling me things," Spike grumbled.

"Slayer?" Dylan asked, looking to me. I opened my mouth to explain when the rest of the gang burst in, similar sentiments over 'oh shit a bear' were expressed. The bear reared up onto his back feet, bellowing again, and the fighting resumed. How the hell was the Slayer supposed to take on a bear? A magical bear, they had claws, and fur, and were cute. Buffy leapt back as the animal struck out, and again, and again, as it lumbered forward. It kept backing her farther and farther into a corner, a few more steps and she'd barely have enough room to strike.

Vaulting the couch I made a run for the table, barely dodging a Chumash's knife, I grabbed the plate of asparagus, "Hey! Bear" I chucked a handful of limp, over spiced, plant spears at the bear. It turned, maybe more out of confusion than anything. I doubted that asparagus hurt all that much,"Yeah! Come on bear! Bring it!" I screamed as I threw more asparagus, nailing him squarely in the face.

"Weapons!" Xander yelled, "They can be killed with their own weapons!"

The bear was advancing on me now, and I was running out of asparagus. At least no one had been planning on eating it. It roared as I hit it with my last handful. I could smell its breath from here, and it wasn't necessarily pleasant.

"Buffy!" I said, holding out the plate as a makeshift shield, "Buffy! Hurry!" The bear reared up again, blotting out everything in the room. It was just fur and asparagus now. Fur, asparagus, and birds. Wait, birds? Black feathers gave way to a Chumash, bathed in green light, and then he was gone.

Buffy stood in his place, knife raised, "I guess you could say we, buried that mess."

"Buffy, even for you that was terrible," I said, letting the asparagus plate fall to the floor.

* * *

"So this is what you do, huh?" Dylan asked. We were sitting on the couch, I was staring at the half eaten piece of pie on my plate. It looked so good, but I was so full.

"Yeah. Well, Buffy. This is what Buffy does. I'm just kind of here." I said, fiddling with the pumpkin filling.

"I think you did pretty well with that bear," he said, nudging my side. I giggled.

"I just threw asparagus."

"Asparagus I worked hard to make," He joked, his dimples starting to show again. So he wasn't totally freaked, that was good. Less than totally freaked is always a good start, "Nah, nah this will be cool. Instead of burgers we could get stakes." He giggled, "Get it, stakes."

"Yeah, yeah I got." I said, half laughing half sighing. Still better than Buffy's bury pun.

"This'll be great, you, me, vampires, it'll be like doom. Just real." Oh no. My stomach sank, he was too excited about this. I zoned out as he continued to babble about what great heros we would be. Why did I think he would be like Oz? Oz was Oz, he was cool and collected, and Dylan apparently wasn't. I could see it already, first night out on patrol he'd have a vamp at his throat, and the stake in its arm.

"Can I talk to you?" I cut him off, and glanced at Spike. The vampire was staring at the ceiling with an expression of utter boredom on his face, I'm sure he would love to make a snide remark right now, "Alone."

Dylan's brow furrow, "Yeah. Yeah of course."

We stood up, and I lead him into the hall. What should I say? My mouth felt dry, and no amount of swallowing seemed to ease it. I had worked so hard to try to get here, and when I finally got to stop lying, he had to turn out to be a moron. This was all his fault.

"I...I don't think this is going to work." I said, trying to avoid meeting his eyes. No more dimples today.

"What?"

"I...It's complicated. All of this, and I just don't…want you getting hurt." I said, trying to be as interested in the checker pattern of his shirt as possible.

"I won't -" He started, but I cut him off.

"But you will!" I paused, looking for words to explain, but I couldn't find any, "Dylan, please, could you just go?" There was a long, heavy silence.

"Okay. I'll go," He said, his tone clipped.

"I'm -" He brushed past me, rounding the corner, "sorry." I finished quietly,and waited to hear the door close.

Willow, Anya, and Xander had gone home, Buffy had gone after Angel, Giles had gone out to buy garbage bags for the asparagus and pieces of broken house. With Dylan gone, it was just me and Spike. What a wonderful fucking day.

"So you called it quits with the boy toy," Spike said, not taking his eyes off of the ceiling.

"Shut up, Spike," I growled, sitting down arms folded.

"What? You chain me up, now you're going to gag me too?" He said, a hint of a laugh under his words. Should have let him burn. Huffing I adopted the same position as him, glaring at the shapes in the plaster's bumps.

"You going to sulk now? You're the one who broke it off with him, Bird."

"I told you to stop calling me that," I said, refusing to look at him. I could hear his chains clinking, as he shifted into a sitting position.

"So, tell me, Bird, how'd you fly into Sunnydale?" I let my head fall to the side, so I could glower at him properly. I just wanted to be left alone.

"Tell me how that was even slightly on topic?"

"Thought you could use a distraction," he said, reaching for my pie on the coffee table. I thought about yelling at him for it, but I hadn't been planning on eating it anyway, "So, tell me, how'd you end up in Sunnydale? You aren't a Summers, and I'm assuming you didn't just appear out of no where."

"Got kicked out," I said, looking back at the ceiling.

"Why?"

"I lost control, people could've gotten hurt, it was decided that it would be best if I left...my parents never were too fond of anything different anyways. I would've been just as dead if I'd kissed a girl instead of..." I didn't want to talk about this, why was I talking about this?

"Your powers?" I looked back at him, he was watching me like he was actually interested. This was weird, I didn't like it,"You lost control of your powers?"

"How do you-"

"You've got to have some sort of mojo, ended up in the oxyclean nightmare with me, didn't ya?" He looked down, fiddling with his nails. The black paint had started chipping off, "So what'cha got hiding in that soft little body of yours? Got a bit of witch in you?Like Red?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Enlighten me," he said.

I burst out laughing.


	6. The Wolves

**So the last chapter before the new ones start coming out, I hope y'all enjoy!**

 **Chapter Six - The Wolves**

I wrinkled my nose as I squeezed the last drops of cold blood into one of Giles' mugs. The bright red played against the mustardy yellow like some sort of sick children's toy. Why did I have to do this? This was Giles' mug, and the blood was for the vampire in his tub, that he wanted to interrogate. I had no real part in this. I tried not to breath while I carried the mug to the microwave, the machine beeping cheerfully as I punched in two minutes. If only I had had the good sense to stay at home today I wouldn't be preparing Spike's snacks. I glared at the tiles on the kitchen floor, and listened to the whirring of the microwave as the smell of blood began to seep into the air. Did he have to have it warm?

I pulled the mug out with five seconds left on the timer, and slammed the door shut. I'd never known a man to have lived over a century, and be such a huge fucking brat. My blood needs to be this warm, you need to let me out to watch this stupid show on the tele at this time, I wouldn't be surprised if he started asking me to serve him tea and biscuits.

I tried to make each step as smooth as possible as I made my way to the bathroom, there was no way in hell I was spilling this. I was wearing white, and I already had first hand experience on how hard it was to get blood out of white clothes. Sure, most of that came from washing Buffy's clothes for her before Joyce was in on the whole slayer deal. For a girl who frequently put herself at risk of being stabbed, she sure wore a lot of white.

"One cup of blood," I sighed, holding it out to him, Spike looked up at me expectantly, "What?"

"Where's the straw?" He asked.

"Straw?" I raised a brow, and he shook his shackles in response. I sighed again, Spike was turning this into a habit for me, "We don't have any, Spike."

"Well how am I supposed to drink it then?" He asked, letting his hands fall back into his lap. Shaking my head in something that fell between despair and exasperation, I sat on the edge of the tub, and held the cup up to his lips for him to drink. He strained for it, like a dog going for a chicken wing, I tried to look away and not focus on the thick slurping noise. Though I was watching the tarnished bronze of the tub's clawed foot, I could feel Spike's eyes on me as he drank. Leave it to Spike to try to make everyone as uncomfortable as fucking possible.

"Giles!" I yelled, "Giles, hurry up!"

Spike smacked his lips as he left the now empty cup, "Getting tired of me, love?"

"Yes."

The door opened, and Giles bustled in, squinting through his glasses at the pile of books in his arms. Spike and I watched as he practically tripped over every possible object he could in the four feet from the door to the end of the tub, the books nearly spilling out onto the floor. We looked at each other, and back to Giles, and then shrugged equally confused. His confusion bore a smirk where mine had a furrowed brow.

"Giles…"

"I'm - I'm fine. I think I just need to get a new prescription for my glasses," he said, and squinted in my direction as I raised a brow, "I'm fine, I promise. Now for the ritual…" He trailed off as he picked through the volumes, staring blankly at the spines.

"Is Willow not coming?" I asked, I didn't know about Giles, but I had no clue what we were doing.

"No," he said, choosing a book to begin flipping through, "No, I believe she has decided she would rather not participate."

"I'm going to go try and talk to her," I said, setting the mug on the floor and standing up, "do you know why-"

"No, she didn't say anything. We'll just have to do it on our own." He pulled out a few candles.

"No, not happening. You're practically blind, I know cows who can do spells better than me," Spike snorted, "Shut it vamp boy - and quite frankly magic gone wrong has results ranging from comic to tragic, and I'm not in the mood for either," I said, heading for the door, "I'll be back, and I'll have Willow."

* * *

I hesitated, one fist held in front of the door, the sound of soft sobs came from the other side. Maybe I should just let her alone? An emotional witch was probably not the best one to work with, but I'd told Giles...swallowing heavily I knocked three times, quietly and swiftly, and then I waited. The sobs quieted, and then ceased altogether.

The door opened, Willow looked like shit. She was all disheveled, eyes red and puffy, nose red and puffy, hair red and puffy. She had tried to make herself look presentable, but wiping tears from her eyes had only caused huge black streaks of mascara. She managed a rather genuine if feeble smile, and opened the door a bit wider for me.

"Will…" I started, "Are you okay?" I asked as she closed the door. She didn't say anything, making her way to her bed, and sitting down, "Will?"

"Oz left." Her voice was thick, like she was trying to keep it from cracking. What did she mean Oz left? That was pretty old news. I sat next to her, thighs touching as the mattress dipped around our combined weight, "He-He sent for his stuff…" She sniffled, "He's not coming back."

"Oh, Willow," I said, not really knowing what other words to use. I wrapped an arm around her, and let her rest her face in the crook of my neck. Well, I was at least eighty percent sure that this ruled out truth spells. Ugh, it was going to take a small army to stop Giles from trying to do it tonight. At least he knew what he was doing, and I could see, so somewhere in between we would manage.

"I have some ice cream," she mumbled into my collarbone.

"What?" I asked.

"Ice cream. I have some, and at least three different sitcoms on VHS." Oh shoot, she wanted me to stay. Staying would have been fine, I guess, but Giles was expecting me. I think she felt me stiffen, because she sat up and looked at me.

"Do you want to?"

"I do." I reassured her, "I do, but I can't...I kind of promised Giles-"

"Oh, so Giles sent you." She pulled away, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

"No! Well yes...kind of - but he didn't know - I didn't know...about Oz." She still wouldn't look up at me, but I knew that those giant puppy eyes were watering, oh this was a mess. Giles told me not to come, just stay and do the damn spell. Why was I always so stubborn? "Look, I'm really sorry, but Buffy will be back from patrol soon, you can do all of this stuff with her. You're off the hook, we didn't know about all of this, so no spells -"

"Off the hook?" Her tone could have been bitter, she also could have been trying not to cry, I couldn't really tell.

"Yeah, off the hook. I'll take care of the magicking for tonight, you just-" I was cut off as she scoffed, "What?"

"You're going to do the spell?" There was an incredulous twist to her lips, as she looked away from me again.

"Well yeah-"

"Marley, you're a mess. Do you really think you can do a truth spell? You wreck everything," Willow said, a distinct bite in her tone. I bit my lip, and breathed out deliberately, doing my best not to throw back a retort. She was being a jerk, but being a jerk back wasn't going to help anything. Instead I stood, and headed for the door. Better just to leave than risk pissing her off more.

"Buffy will be back soon." I said just before the door clicked shut behind me.

I stalked down the dormitory hallway. Willow was hurting, but she didn't have to be so fucking mean about it. No wonder Giles left. I didn't wreck everything! Sure sometimes I wasn't the most organized person, but I didn't wreck things. I may have caused a small explosion in my chem lab once, but that wasn't really my fault. The teacher was just shit at explaining things.

I wrenched the door to the stairs open, and I was halfway through when I heard it slam heavily into the wall. Shit. There was a large knob shaped dent, laced with cracks, adorning the beige paint now. Woops.

* * *

My breath came in heavy labored gasps by the time I reached the door. I had crashed my bike, not once, not twice, but three times on the way back. Eventually I gave in, and walked a mile and a half with a heavy, dented bike, uphill to Giles'. I let the bike fall against the wall, no point in treating it nicely now, the wheel wouldn't turn right anymore. God, I felt like a massive bruise.

Leaving my bike against the wall I staggered in the door. This wasn't turning out to be a good night.

"Giles?" I called.

"Shaddup would ya? I'm watchin' passions!" That certainly wasn't Giles.

I headed over to the couch, limping slightly, and groaned like a birthing cow as I lowered myself down next to Spike. He snorted, not looking at me while I glared. He was watching the screen intently as a very pretty girl fell into the arms of an equally pretty - though at least fifteen years older - man. I relished the silence, closing my eyes and trying to find a position where my already stiff neck wouldn't feel worse. Silence couldn't last forever sadly, the commercial break came eventually.

"So, what the hell did Red do to you?" Spike asked, not trying all that hard to cover up a smirk.

"Not Willow, my bike." I said, groaning slightly as I shifted. My back had a twinge and if I could just get my foot up on the table - a mug of Spike's blood hit the carpet with a wet thud.

"Now what'd you go an do that for?" He whined, "Make me another."

"No, Spike, I'm not going to!"

"I'm hungry!" He rocked forward in his seat, not unlike a small child having a tantrum. No, exactly like that - I was more than certain that Spike's life had been one, big, continuous tantrum.

"Fine!" I snapped, jerking up faster than I should have, and grabbed the mug. I hadn't realized how much had actually been saved from the carpet until half of it was splattered across the couch, and the other half across Spike. I had successfully turned the living room into a recreation of a CSI crime scene. At least Giles was going blind.

Spike blinked for a second, before looking me in the eye, and licking all the way around his mouth leaving a bloody smear of a mustache, goatee combo, "Thanks, Bird."

He winked. I flipped him off, "You're disgusting," I growled, and stalked off towards the kitchen as dramatically as one could while tottering like an old woman.

"Put cayenne pepper in it!" He called, I didn't respond but I supposed I'd have to - I didn't want to have to make it again.

"Where's Giles?" I yelled from the kitchen, as I pulled out a fresh mug and placing a spoon in it to stir the pepper.

"I think he's taking a wiz, now hush up, Passions is back on!"

I shook my head, and started looking for blood bags in the fridge. One was already opened, the pink-stained plastic rolled in on top of itself so the rest of the fridge didn't end up looking like a murder scene...like the living room now did. I pulled it out, poured it in the mug, and started hunting through Giles' spice cabinet. Allspice, cinnamon, cloves, garlic - I chuckled wondering what Spike's face would look like if I put some garlic powder in - white pepper, black pepper, cayenne pepper. I grabbed the bottle of red powder and spun the top a bit too vigorously. There was an explosion of pepper dust, and I was on my knees retching and coughing in an instant. Oh god it burned. I was going to kill Spike for this - who the fuck needs spicy blood? I was trying to stand, but between the blinding tears and relentless, firery cough, I wasn't going anywhere.

"Hurry up would you!" I heard from the living room. I only coughed in response, shakily getting to my feet, kicking the dropped bottle of pepper as far from me as I could. The result was another red puff, and streaks of the stuff across the kitchen floor.

I should have just stayed home.

I wasn't going to touch the pepper again, Spike was going to have plain blood, like a regular vampire, and he was just going to have to like it. I tossed the mug into the microwave, and hit two minutes, before going to lean against the counter. Giles was back, though I could only really see his outline - I was about as blind as he was at the moment. Maybe that's what his problem was, prolonged exposure to Spike's neediness.

"No luck with Willow, Marley?" Giles asked.

"None whatsoever," I grumbled.

"Well we may as well get started - Marley what on earth is that noise?" He squinted at the kitchen where a horrific popping, sizzling, smoking and general disaster was emanating from the microwave. I'd forgotten to take out the spoon. There was a brilliant flash of light, and the demonic machine's window was suddenly coated in blood.

Spike absolutely cackled.

* * *

If my attempt at making Spike blood had been a disaster, then the spell was a catastrophe. Giles could hardly read, but wouldn't let me touch his precious old books. Now I guess he was being reasonable, especially after the first book he handed me ended up more than a bit singed when I dropped it on a couple candles. Without his eyes he'd ended up saying half the incantation wrong, which mixed with me handing him sage instead of lavender had ended up creating a great plume of black smoke instead of 'Spike tells all'.

Spike was simply eating it up.

"Pecking for seed are we, Bird?" He asked I desperately tried to scoop up the powdered vervain I'd spilled everywhere.

"Fuck off, Spike."

"Oh I would gladly, but you know," he rattled his handcuffs. I rolled my eyes and kept scooping when I heard something else fall to the ground.

"Oh darn, what'd I drop?" Giles asked, and before I could even turn around Spike was halfway out of his handcuffs. Damn it, I knew we shouldn't have done this without Willow. I leapt forward, banged my knee into the coffee table, and managed to faceplant on the hard wooden edge of the couch. Dear god, I was the three stooges all rolled into one today. I had landed with my stomach on Spike's knees, and he quickly kicked me off, leapt the couch and ran for the door.

That asshole, where'd he think he was going to go? No one wanted a neutered vampire, we were being more than generous by giving him Giles' tub. I lunged after the ungrateful bastard, and somehow managed to knock a table into his path - really stubbed my toe and the table just happened to fall where Spike just happened to be. However, I took what I could get, and cursing and limping I threw myself in front of the door.

We froze. Spike looked composed, but I was breathing like an overenthusiastic pig - or in simpler terms, loudly with minimal grunting.

"Alright Spike, I don't want to hurt you," I said, positioning myself right in front of the door knob, "and I'm sure you...totally wish you could hurt me, but that's not the point."

Spike stood there for a second, watching, his head cocked to the side.

"Now I think it would really be easier for all of us, if you just turn around sit back down, and I can -" I broke off as he slowly began to walk towards me, "What are you doing? You know you can't-" He was right in front of me now, slightly stooped so he could meet me at eye level.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Bird," he said softly, placing his hands on my arms, and then more brusquely, "Just gonna scooch you off the side for a bit."

What? Before I could really question him, he lifted me up, set me down to his right, and then he was out the door before I could even curse. I thought about going after him, briefly, but he was a good deal faster than me, and quite frankly it wasn't even safe for me to take a leisurely stroll tonight.

"Damn it!" I yelled, slamming the door as Spike's footsteps faded down the street, "I'm going to call Buffy!"

The rest of the night got weird to say the least.

I'd placed myself on the couch after calling Buffy, during which I managed to tangle myself in the cord before falling over - taking more than a few expensive sounding vases with me. I was wrapped in blankets, which was the closest I could find to bubblewrap, when Buffy dragged a rather dejected looking Spike back. I pulled a face at him, which he returned in kind.

"I think we should take privileges away," I said as Buffy shoved Spike down on a chair.

"What? Gonna give me a less comfortable bath?" Spike said with a glare.

"No I was going to forbid you from watching Passion-"

"No! No, Giles, Giles tell her she can't do that!" He yelled.

"I don't know, I agree with her," Buffy piped up, "What about you Giles?"

"What?" The older man jumped a bit, he'd been getting increasingly distracted tonight, "Oh, oh yes, I'm sure that'll be fine -" he continued talking over Spike's protests, "Marley I think I should try some eye drops - but I'm not...not exactly sure I can find them... Walk with me?"

I nodded, carefully unfolding myself from the burrito of safety, and rose to my feet. I grinned when I didn't immediately topple over. However, first step I tripped over the blankets I'd dropped and hit the floor with a dramatic thwump.

When Giles and I got back I fell over again. This time, it wasn't because I tripped, no this time I was on the ground absolutely howling with laughter. This was, perhaps, the best thing that ever happened. No, no perhaps, it was simply just the best. I needed a camera.

"What'cha laughing for?" Buffy asked with a slight pout. Her arms draped over Spike's shoulders, his firmly locked around her waist. He didn't seem perturbed by my laughter, he was too intent on nuzzling her neck.

"Joyous mirth, Buffy. Joyous mirth is simply overflowing, on this happy, happy day," I said through fits of giggling.

"Well if I wasn't blind before…" I heard Giles grumble from somewhere above me.

"Giles, where do you keep your camera?"

"Top drawer of the bureau, why?" He asked, cleaning his glasses in frustration.

"I'm going to have so much fun."

* * *

The happy couple had been more than willing to pose for, "engagement pictures", which I had since developed and was happily setting in a white photo album with gold filigree. Neither one of them would ever be able to cross me again. Buffy and Spike's impromptu engagement remained the strangest thing that happened that night, but the sudden swarm of demons was pretty memorable too - I managed to kill one by tripping and knocking over an apparently unstable stone pillar.

It'd been a few days, and everything had been pretty quiet. Spike had been returned to his bathtub, and I went to help Giles out with him from time to time. I went to school from time to time too, and when I did I avoided Dylan adamantly - which meant I avoided the only friend I'd had for that short amount of time. Oh well, at least I had...Giles and Spike. Oh god, the two people I hung out with the most were a middle aged librarian, and a melodramatic shithead of a vampire. Oh what had my life come to?

Joyce still wouldn't be home for a few more weeks - and the house had become increasingly empty as time went by. I'd started learning to cook simply because I was so bored.

The doorbell rang. I set aside my little project, and got up. Who else would it be, but Giles and Spike? My two very best friends.

"Take him," Giles shoved Spike at me, "I'm not putting up with his - his garbage, anymore. You're the one who let him into my house in the first place - I say it's high time that you kept him." With that, Giles spun around, leaving me with a very pleased looking Spike.

"What the hell did you do to him?" I asked.

"I found a Passions marathon on the tele," he grinned, sidling past me and into the house. Apparently he'd lost the desire to run for it, because he was more than capable with only his hands tied. Instead he plopped down on the couch and reached over to the coffee table for the remote, the coffee table where I'd left the photo album.

"What the bloody hell is this?" He yelled, shaking the book at me.

"Little present for ya," I smiled, taking the book out of his hands, "See they're your engagement photos." Spike groaned, and I grinned, "Aren't they absolutely adorable, I never knew you were such a passionate kisser Spike, I mean golly-gosh."

"I'm going to be sick." He had his head in his hands, trying to ignore the book that I kept shoving under his nose, "Why'd I ever leave Giles'?"

I'd tried to set Spike up on the couch, which personally I thought he should have been grateful for - it was far better than the tub he'd been cooped in for the past week or so. Sure I was going to tie him down to the arm rests, but it was still going to be a hell of a lot more comfy. But no, he bitched and moaned, and demanded he had a bed.

Eventually I gave in.

I didn't feel comfortable putting him up in Joyce's room, and Buffy would kill me if I let him sleep in her bed. So it looked like he was going to get my room. I lead him upstairs, my arms clutching a bundle of rope, and my heart a deep grudge for the loss of my bed. I was going to take that album to a demon bar for this - the thought of which made me feel a lot better.

"Here we are," I grumbled, nudging the door open with my toe, "go lay down." He sprawled out on my bed, fondling my old, pink, stuffed pony, "That's mine!" I snapped, snatching it away.

"Oh dear, wouldn't want to hurt your stuffy would I?" He simpered.

"Shut it, Spike." Why did I have to take him? I mean I understand why Buffy and Willow couldn't, it's hard to sneak a Vampire past an RA, but what about Xander. Or Anya? She could have talked him to death and we'd never have to bother with the jackass again. I started tying rope to the headboard, and then took his wrist.

"Ooh, kinky little bird." His mouth twisted into a smirk, and he dragged his teeth across his lower lip, "Didn't know you played that way, but I'm more than happy to -" he was cut off as I slammed my fist into his gut.

To my satisfaction he wheezed heavily as he growled, "Bitch," at me.

He was quiet as I finished tying him to the bed, grumpily muttering to himself under his breath. Probably insulting me, not that I particularly cared. I picked up my pony, Harold, and headed for Buffy's room.

"Goodnight, Spike."

* * *

It was a wonderfully quiet Saturday morning. Really quiet, peaceful to be honest. It was odd, I'd expected Spike to be yelling at me to feed him breakfast or let him out so he could watch television. Though if Spike felt content being tied to the bed all morning, who was I to judge? I'd spent my morning reading, catching up on homework - which was a lot, I'd been missing school pretty frequently...senioritis was hitting me hard - I cooked myself a sausage and cheese omelet for breakfast.

An hour or so passed and I still hadn't heard a peep from Spike. Maybe he was still asleep? If he was, he was going to wake up eventually, and Giles hadn't been kind enough to leave me with any blood. I sighed, looks like I was going to have to go to the butchers sometime soon. They were open on Saturdays weren't they?

Another hour, and still nothing from Spike. I was starting to get worried - what if he'd escaped? I poured a bowl of cereal, hoping it would keep him from complaining (if he was still there) that I didn't have any blood for him, and headed upstairs. He was as I'd left him, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Morning, I said, except nothing came out. I put a hand to my throat and tried again, still nothing. Spike had noticed me, and propped himself up on his elbows, fixing me with an accusatory glare. Did I have laryngitis or something? Oh god was I deaf? What if he'd been calling all morning?

He mouthed something in an over exaggerated way to make each word distinct, not that I could understand anyways, but he tried.

Can you not talk either? I said silently, and he looked at me in confusion. Oh this was going to be a long day. Spike was continuing to mouth something, which was now appearing to be 'you did this to me'.

I shook my head, and grabbed my throat, trying to mimic that I was in the same, quiet boat. He seemed to understand, leaning back against the headboard. I set the cereal down next to him, and started undoing the ropes. He looked at the food with disdain, asshat, I made that for him. It took me like two minutes, but still.

Blood, he mouthed.

I shrugged, trying to convey as much of a 'sorry, not much I can do' attitude as possible. He grabbed the cereal begrudgingly, and started eating as I undid his feet.

Downstairs we sat with each other on the couch, and turned on the television. Well, we weren't deaf. It was odd not being able to talk. It wasn't the same excitement I got over losing my voice as a kid, that was fun. I could stay home, and my parents would bring me hot coco. If I did go to school it was like a massive game of charades, and the teachers couldn't call on me, cause I couldn't talk. Today though, it just felt disturbing.

The lady on the news said mass outbreak of laryngitis, the town was under quarantine. I glanced up a Spike, and made eye contact. Now that he knew he couldn't nag at me for this, he seemed rather nonplussed. He just gave me a lopsided smile, probably enjoying my discomfort, and popped up off the couch so he could go raid the kitchen.

I listened to the news report for a while, it was nice to listen to voices. If it was townwide, Buffy, and Willow, and Giles would all be having the same problem. A problem that I assumed was magical, because well, it was Sunnydale. In Sunnydale I'm surprised when things aren't evil.

I decided I should probably head over to Giles' where I was sure everyone had already gathered. The TV flicked off, and I was left with the sound of Spike rummaging through the fridge. Can't say I blamed him, if I'm not talking I'm usually eating - which meant I was probably going to break out more than a few bags of cheese-its today. I wandered over to the kitchen where Spike was hunched in front of one of the cabinets below the counter, rattling pots and pans about. Off to the side I saw the pack of ground beef I had been planning on making burgers with tonight. Oh well, I wasn't really in the mood to argue - nor did I have the vocal capacity.

He jumped like a startled kitten when I tapped him on the shoulder. I would have laughed, except he leapt up so fast that I almost fell over. He reached out quickly, grabbing my arm. I didn't bother thanking him, it wasn't worth five minutes of gesturing back and forth. Instead I pulled my arm back from his hand, and mouthed 'Giles' to him.

He cocked his head to the side.

Giles, I mouthed again miming a man cleaning his glasses. Spike nodded.

Then I pointed at him, and then the kitchen door, before sliding my finger across my throat. He rolled his eyes and gave me a sardonic look. Oh god, that was a stupid thing to say wasn't it? If he tried to leave he would die just fine without my assistance - sunlight and all.

Not sure how to say goodbye, I patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, and turned to leave.

* * *

The others hadn't been able to put much light to the situation - everyone was just as confused as I was. Four hours of book work didn't end up helping all that much either. After a while we all just kind of gave up - leaving a stack of old tomes on the coffee table and baking chocolate chip cookies instead. We played charades with the white board, and pictionary which became a bit like charades too when we realized we couldn't actually say our guesses.

It was fun, quiet, but fun. Xander had suggested hide and seek, but it was shot down pretty quickly. I don't think anyone really wanted to be alone. Instead we just baked another batch of cookies.

It was starting to get dark, the sun dipping low over the horizon. Buffy was getting ready to go patrol the town, and I decided I'd tag along for a bit on the way back home. I didn't want to leave Spike alone at night when he was perfectly capable of waltzing out the front door.

We held hands, walking side by side down the street. Everyone looked lost - wandering aimlessly, sitting with beer bottles lined up beside them (they hadn't even bothered with paper bags). The police, as usual, weren't exactly helpful. I'd've thought that they'd be out in force tonight, but no one seemed to be stopping some pimply kid from lighting a fire in the middle of the street.

Not that we were either, but we had a specialty in the spooky, mystic stuff. Pubescent threats to society weren't really our area.

Not too far away a big blonde guy was breaking up a fight between a couple of middle aged men. I don't know what started it, but yo-mama jokes were probably off the table. Buffy strode over to help, and the quarrelsome fellows dispersed. I was about to tell Buffy we should keep going, it was already dark and I didn't trust Spike in my house, when she and blondie smiled at each other. And then they were hugging. I guess everyone was feeling kind of touchy tonight, but - oh wow, okay, and now they were kissing. Wow, that was a lot of tongue.

Buffy broke away a bit shyly as I stood off to the side feeling totally flabbergasted. Literally what the fuck just happened? They looked soulfully into each others eyes, I looked mildly disgusted by the sudden PDA with loverboy, and then he kissed her on the cheek and strolled off.

I raised an eyebrow, and laid out my palms face up in the universal gesture for, 'for the love of god, please explain'. She looked like she was trying to figure out how to put it, but then shook her head and mouthed, I'll tell you later.

I rolled my eyes. Buffy was like my sister, she was my best friend, and I'd hardly seen any of her in months. Now apparently she'd had prince charming long enough to snog him in the street, and no one had peeped a word to me. No mention from Xander, or Willow, and least of all from Buffy. I think she was trying to look apologetic, but that didn't mean she hadn't practically stopped talking to me since Thanksgiving (and even before then she hadn't exactly been clingy). No phone calls, no invites for patrols, and not a damn word about the new boy toy.

She nodded her head in the direction of home, and I sighed, still pissed, but willing to accept a Slayer escort. But then she glanced back in the direction her boyfriend had walked off in, and I stopped. Her brow furrowed, and I started waving her off in the direction he'd gone. She tilted her head to the side, and I rolled my eyes again, turning her about giving her gentle if somewhat brusque push in the direction she seemed so desperate to go.

She went, and I found myself kind of wishing she hadn't as I stalked back home. At least I still had Spike.

* * *

I hadn't been able to sleep. Everything was irritating. The rhythmic thud of Spike tapping his boot against the bedstead from the other room, the drip of the leaky tap from the bathroom, the way my pj's were riding up against my stomach, the feel of sheets on my legs, the chill when I didn't have the sheets. I wanted to scream at something, someone, just into the air, but I physically couldn't and it was the most frustrating thing I'd ever experienced.

I'd left Spike untied, I didn't see the point, it wasn't really like he was going to go anywhere. He was free to wander the house and watch TV, I knew he didn't particularly love to sleep at night. He'd stayed holed up in my room, though, making that ridiculous tapping sound. It wasn't even the tapping that annoyed me as much as the fact that I'd given him free rein and he just sullenly laid in my bed. I was trying to be nice, damn it.

I gave up on sleep, padding softly down the stairs and into the kitchen I started looking for a cup. The soft tinkle of glass on glass annoyed me too. I was thinking about sitting down in front of the TV when there was a knock at the door. That was odd, but to be fair, it had been a pretty odd night. I glanced at the clock, it was well past five in the morning, who would even be up and about? My glass clinked heavily on the counter, and I set off down the hall.

Spike had heard it too, apparently, and was standing at the top of the stairs watching the door in confusion. I made eye contact and he shrugged.

Through the windows I could see a bald head, on an abnormally slim body. Outside there were erratic, four-beated footsteps pounding on the deck. The knock came again, and I looked back up at Spike who had taken a few steps down the stairs, watching the door intently. I stepped a bit closer as the knock came again, more insistently this time. The curtain rustled softly as I shifted it aside, and I gasped.

A pale, deathly face grinned a silver smile, and lifted a hand in a polite little wave. Another face, one attached to a shorter, more portly body, leaned forward and mimicked the gesture. They were bobbing up and down slightly, feet a few inches off the ground as they continued to smile stiffly through the window. Behind them straight jacket clad...things...danced madly about - colliding with the walls, and the rails, and each other almost every other step.

I let the curtain fall, and they pounded their fists against the door. I took a step back, and there was a slam as if one of the dancers had thrown itself bodily into the door. Oh god, they were going to break it down. I bounded up the stairs, and I'm sure after seeing the expression on my face Spike decided it was a good time for him to run too. I started to trip in my haste to make it to the top as I heard the distinct sound of wood beginning to crack, but Spike hauled me up by shoulders and pushed me in front of him as we headed for Joyce's room.

We left the door open, and went for the window that looked out over the backyard. I pushed at it, and it began to creak open. Apparently not having super strength made the going too slow in Spike's opinion, he pushed me out of the way and flung the window open. The door burst as we clambered out, him first, me following quickly behind.

My heart was beating as haphazardly as the dancers that crashed through the house below us as we crawled to a nice spot far enough away from the windows. Now what? It was hard to make a plan when you couldn't speak. The wall was pressed up against my back, Spike pressed against my side. It was chilly out, and the bastard was lucky enough to have his leather duster, all I had were thin pjs.

I suppressed a shiver, and wiggled closer to him. It wasn't like he had body heat, but my own warmth might be able to reflect off him enough to keep my left side warm. He didn't make an effort to get any closer to me, or do the gentlemanly thing and give me his fucking coat (a coat he only used for his god damn aesthetic), but he didn't move away. For the first time...ever, really...I found myself thankful for Spike's proximity.

There was a terrible clatter as what I could only assume was the china cabinet, was thrown to the floor. I flinched, at least they were still downstairs. I looked up at Spike, he had his eyes closed, his jaw tight. The poor guy was near about as useless as I was, more so, he couldn't even try to protect himself. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say he looked scared.

The dancers gallumped up the stairs. Oh god, I was going to die tonight wasn't I? Killed by the good doctors Floaty, McGrill, and the Mad House Ballet. Those beasts the floaters kept with them were strong, strong enough to break down the door, stronger than I could fight on my own. Perhaps Spike could have, before, but now we were just sitting ducks.

I was going to die, and I'd be taking the monsters with me...and depending on how close Spike got to the crossfire he'd probably be burnt up too.

I'm not sure how long I sat there, contemplating my demise in the company of the world's most useless vampire. But the things were wreaking havoc in Joyce's room, and I think I'd forgotten to breathe. Spike was getting jittery, the velvety black of the night sky had taken on the distinctly lavender hue of pre-dawn.

Then, quite suddenly, they were leaving. The dancers tumbled back down the staircase, and the house grew silent again. I looked up at Spike and smiled in relief, he smiled back. We didn't go back inside immediately, just to be on the safe side, but we couldn't wait too long otherwise I'd be scraping ashes off the roof.

The house was a wreck. Joyce's nice art had been destroyed, feather pillows burst, blankets ripped, chairs broken. We moved silently into the hall, poking our heads into each room as we went - I had a shit load of cleaning ahead of me, and there was no doubt in my mind that Spike absolutely was not going to help. I glanced in Buffy's room, and stopped.

There on Buffy's bed, was Harold. My faithful pink pony had been reduced to scraps of terry cloth and puffs of stuffing, a single glass eye staring up from the rumpled comforter. The bits were precariously held together by slender threads. My throat tightened as I stared at the remains of my childhood toy, he'd come with me all the way from Georgia. He'd stayed in the sketchy motel, bright against the scratchy brown duvet, before Buffy had found us. And he'd slept with me every night, tight against my chest.

I was fighting back tears when I heard Spike come up behind me. I blinked furiously, there was no way in hell I was going to let him see me cry. He stopped beside me, I didn't know what he was thinking, because I refused to look at him. For all I knew he could be laughing at me, getting all emotional over an inanimate piece of cloth. Instead he placed a large hand on my shoulder, it rested there tentatively, and then gave a feather-light squeeze before he turned around and headed back down the hall.

* * *

I'd found a sewing kit, and was doing my best to patch Harold back together. Spike was watching a news report about a kid who'd been murdered over at UCS, heart cut out, apparently there had been a couple others just like it last night. I supposed that's what would have happened to me if they'd caught us. I think Spike would have been fine? I don't really know if there's a market for vampire hearts.

I heard footsteps picking their way over the broken door, and looked up. Buffy was there, looking around the house wide eyed.

What happened, she mouthed. I mimicked someone stabbing me in the heart and she nodded. You okay? she mouthed again. I nodded, and she looked at the hole where the door was supposed to be, Giles, she mouthed and jerked her thumb out the door.

Buffy didn't seem happy with the thought of leaving Spike unattended. She ran up stairs and was back with the ropes pretty quickly - of course the monsters destroyed my stuffed pony, but left a pile of ropes completely unharmed. Spike rolled his eyes, but complied, keeping a grip on the television remote.

I got up and glanced at Spike, who briefly met my gaze before going back to his television. I assumed that meant he was going to be fine on his own for a while, so I placed Harold - now mostly put back together - on the coffee table and followed Buffy over the door.

* * *

We met in one of the UCS lecture halls - apparently Giles' girlfriend had seen the monsters too - and apparently we finally had a fucking clue as to what we were dealing with. Giles had set up an overhead projector. I was seated next to Anya, Willow on my other side. My fellow demon, tilted a bag of popcorn over to me, which I gladly took a handful of.

The slides were complete with horrific (both in quality and subject) doodles. People getting their hearts ripped out etc… several accidental innuendos later it appeared that while we now knew what we were up against - fairy tales were so damn cryptic, that we still had no fucking clue what we were doing. Giles had said they needed seven hearts, well they already had two - perhaps if we just avoided giving any organ donations for the next couple days...we could let other people bite the dust...and then they'd leave?

As we filed out Buffy gestured to me to walk with her.

I'm sorry, she mouthed. I could feel that annoyance creeping back in, adrenaline had been a good fix for a while, but apparently not permanent. I glared off to the side, and she put a hand on my shoulder, getting my attention. I'm sorry! She mouthed again with more emphasis.

We were walking down the street, it was getting dark and this time was pretty much empty. The prospect of getting your heart cut out seemed to be more than enough to keep everyone inside.

Buffy looked like she was trying to explain, but kept getting more and more frustrated when I couldn't figure out what she was saying. She'd always been bad at charades. I waited patiently, if just as frustrated, while she danced about like a very angry gorilla - if I hadn't been annoyed I would have pissing myself laughing. I had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to be.

The clock tower rang and she shook her head, giving up, and pointed in the direction of Giles' house. It was closer than home, and the gentlemen would be prowling the streets soon. I nodded and started to follow when I had a bad thought. Spike. We'd left Spike tied up - oh god if he died he was going to kill me - or well...I mean weirder things have happened in Sunnydale. The bell rang again, I couldn't just leave him.

I could see the clocktower doors opening, and the gentlemen gracefully began to float out towards us. I tapped Buffy's shoulder, nodded in the direction of the gentlemen, and took off towards home.

I could hear the sound of general mayhem as the Madhouse Ballet tipped trashcans and bent signs. It was growing more distant, the gentlemen had all the time in the world to take a nice casual float around town, I was full out sprinting. I might have walked, Spike wasn't really that pressing of an issue, but the thought of having your heart cut out really puts a spring in your step.

I bounded up the porch, through the door-hole and into the living room. Spike was there, looking more than a bit disgruntled as he glared at me in a way that very distinctly said 'you left me damn it'. Ignoring the attitude, I went for the chair and started untying knots - had Buffy never heard of a slip knot? I'd finished all but the last one when Spike started jerking about. What an impatient baby. He thrashed harder and I looked up, a tall gentlemen had appeared at the mouth of the living room.

In one deft motion I finished undoing the last knot, grabbed the un-stuffed shell of Harold in one hand, Spike's in the other, and headed for the back door. We flew across the yard, dancers at our heels. Spike grabbed me around the waist to give me a boost over the fence, except to an adrenaline high vamp a boost was a good four or five feet over the already six foot fence.

Shit, I thought as I crashed into the bushes on the otherside. Spike landed catlike beside me, pulled me up - which I guess was as good of a "sorry I threw you ten feet into the air, hope it didn't hurt too much," as I was going to get from him, and we took off down the street. Our good friends followed quickly, gliding down the road with brilliant silver grins.

Spike lead me this way and that down streets and through yards, our pursuers kept catching up no matter how hard we tried to shake them. I had no idea where he was trying to go, but he seemed to have some sort of plan, which was better than what I had so I went with it.

We'd managed to lose them, if only for a few minutes, when the graveyard loomed up to our right. He leapt the much lower fence and I followed, darting in and out of graves until he found a heavy marble mausoleum - not the fancy house kind, just a stone box in the ground. He pushed the lid part way off, grabbed me by the shirt, and pulled me towards the grave.

I looked at him, pleading, but he only gave me another push, and I decided it was better than running all night. I settled down on one end of the crypt, sitting next to our dead friend's feet while Spike crouched next to his head and slid the lid over us. It was roomier than I'd expected, even with the lid closed I didn't have to hunch, and I could sit criss cross applesauce - you know if I didn't mind getting close and personal with a corpse. I decided that in light of the situation, playing footsies with the dead wasn't too bad an option.

It was dark in the crypt, like you can't see the hand in front of your face dark. I couldn't see Spike, or hear Spike - he didn't exactly _need_ to breath, and we couldn't talk. For all I knew it could have just been me and the body, all alone. Part of me would have liked to go lean against Spike like I had last night, the other (far more rational) part of me said that a petulant child of a vampire wasn't worth crawling over dead people. I agreed with the rational side, let out a deep breath, clutched Harold closer, and leaned into the cold stone wall, praying to anyone who would hear me that there weren't any spiders in here.

I'm not sure how long we'd been in there, but my legs were cramping. I was tired, really, really tired. It had been almost forty eight hours without sleep now, and I'm pretty sure I was just going on adrenaline at this point.

"This is the fucking worst," I muttered silently to myself.

"What?" Spike asked, surprised. Wait - oh thank god.

"I never thought I'd say it was good to hear your voice," I sighed, laughing a bit. I don't know what Buffy did - or didn't do, maybe there were five more poor souls without hearts - but I was relieved.

"No need to get all sentimental with me, Bird. Come on, it's getting a bit stuffy in here." He lifted the lid off, letting it fall to the ground this time, and we stood up. My legs ached as the blood rushed back into them, and I found myself waddling awkwardly around on dead legs. Spike thought it was hilarious.

"Fuck you," I grumbled as I frankensteined my way past him, legs kicking out with each step - not that I had any control of them.

It was dark still, but barely, and Giles' was closest. We jogged there to beat the sun, or rather Spike jogged I waddled with speed next to him.

"Why'd you do it?" He asked as we rounded the corner to Giles' street.

"What?" I asked, a bit breathless from all the running.

"You came back for me."

"You didn't throw me to the wolves," I said. My legs had finally gained some normal capacity, and I no longer looked like a wind-up duck.

This time it was his turn to say, "What?"

"When we were running, and," I took a breath, this jogging thing really wasn't for me, "and the other night - there were plenty of occasions you could have tossed me over for a bit of snip, snip, and been on your way. You're," I took another gasping breath, this is why I hated talking and running, "a lot faster than me, you could have just ditched me and left me to my own devices - you stayed."

He was quiet for a second, "I don't think I like this," he said as we stopped a Giles' door.

"No, I don't think I do either."


	7. Drop a Line

**Alright, chapter seven. There's a possibility that this will be posted not too long after I get the first six up, cause won't let new accounts post for twelve hours, and I have a final exam period tomorrow that is quite literally nothing. So I'll have plenty of time to write.**

 **Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and once again feedback is always appreciated.**

 **Chapter Seven - Drop a Line**

Giles had been kind enough to give Spike and I a ride back to Ravello Drive. Spike of course was lying in the back under a pretty heavy duty blanket, spitting insults and curses every time Giles' dinky old car took an odd turn. I'm pretty sure he banged his head around more than once, despite whatever odd friendship was forming between the two of us - it was still funny to see him in pain.

"Shut up, Bird," he growled, and Giles smirked at me. I couldn't help but laugh harder, Giles was doing it on purpose.

Spike probably deserved it.

It didn't take long for the car to jerk to a halt, and Spike to dash for the door muttering and sizzling the whole way. Giles and I watched him go, the blanket flying behind him like a cloak. It made him look like Dracula, except you know...not quite so fashionable.

"Are you sure you want to keep him?" Giles asked, "With school and all your other responsibilities, I don't see why you should have to keep an eye on him - the couple days you kept him off my back was more than enough, Marley."

"It's fine Giles," I insisted, "Spike's an asshole, but at least he's company."

What was really odd was that I meant it, spending time with Spike really wasn't that bad. Now, half the time I'd had the vamp in my custody he'd been physically unable to speak, so I expected the sentiment to change, but for now I found myself wanting him to stay longer.

"I'll give you a call if he gets too rowdy," I reassured Giles, said my goodbyes, and followed Spike into the house.

He was already sprawled out on the couch, a mug of blood balanced on his chest as he flipped through the channels. I rolled my eyes, for a vampire he could be so...well...human. Though I supposed for a demon I acted pretty damn human too, but that was different, I'd spent all eighteen years of my life with them. Spike had spent the past couple centuries making bouquets out of babies for his lady love.

He was evil; but he also liked cereal in his blood in the morning, and drank beers, and I could've sworn I'd seen him tear up while watching Passions. It was weird, it had always been easier when things fell into neat little piles of black and white.

My limbs felt heavy as I glanced at the clock, it was nearly eight in the morning. How long had it been since I slept? Did I really want to drag myself up the stairs? I certainly wasn't going to bother getting to school today. I decided to compromise, I'd just sit down here long enough to find the energy to get to my own bed, if I happened to wake up before school ended I'd go to class.

Somehow I doubted that that was likely.

Collapsing into the armchair, I tucked my legs up underneath me, and closed my eyes. Just a little rest, all I needed was a little rest.

* * *

"Bloody fucking hell!" The yell from the kitchen jerked me awake, dazed and confused as I was it took a moment longer to realize the house was shaking. Well that wasn't too odd, it was southern California after all. I pulled myself up, struggling to get off the couch.

"Spike?" I called.

"What, Little Bird?" He called back sounding aggravated, his voice vibrating a bit with the tremors.

"How'd I get on the -" I yelped as I tumbled to the floor, shoulder banging hard against the coffee table. Well...at least I was awake now. Groaning I dragged myself back into a sitting position as the house finally settled. Spike had come from the kitchen, leaning in the doorway absolutely covered in blood.

"What was that?" He asked.

"The couch, how'd I get on the couch?" I'd fallen asleep on the armchair, and last time I checked I didn't sleep walk.

"Put you there," he said, suddenly not making much eye contact, "didn't need to listen to your complaining about neck cricks and shite like that. Nicer round here when you aren't chirping up a storm." Since when had Spike been considerate? Well, he'd seemed pretty considerate with Dru, but I wasn't a vampire or nearly as fragile as she'd been. Weird...maybe the chip really was making him soft.

It was quiet for a moment as he awkwardly eyed the coffee table, and I awkwardly looked at him. His chin and throat were stained red, and his black shirt looked wet. I couldn't help but giggle, earning me a glare I would've found scary if he wasn't tied up by that chip in his head.

"You really are getting older aren't you?" I said, trying to keep down the smile that was threatening to pull across my lips.

"What are you on about now, Bird?" He asked, sounding near about as tired as I felt.

I tapped my chin. "Starting to get a bit of a dribble problem, aren't we?"

"Fuck off," he growled, stalking back into the kitchen. Laughing, I scrambled to follow him. He set his now mostly empty mug back on the counter, and found a towel to clean up the spilled blood.

"You're gonna need to wash that shirt, why don't you go change, I can run it through the laundry…" I trailed off as he just pulled it over his head, handing it to me. Or...or he could just do that. Who really needs clothes anyway? I blinked, not moving as I clutched his crumpled shirt. Had anyone told me Spike looked like that under all those layers? Cause it really would have been appreciated before they left me alone with him.

 _Oh god Marley, what the hell?_ Spike was a vampire, and while I wasn't exactly human, at least my biggest complaint in life wasn't my newfound inability to brutally murder people. This wasn't the guy I was supposed to be attracted to, it was some sweet guy like Dylan. Someone normal, who wouldn't break my heart...until they did something stupid and got themselves killed like Dylan would have.

I'd watched what dating a vampire did to Buffy, I knew better.

I was so lost in thought I hardly noticed that Spike was looking at me too, "Like what you see, Bird?" He asked with a smug smirk, and I felt my cheeks heat, "Oh don't you just look pretty in pink?"

"Fuck off," I growled, the blush deepening as I spun and stormed off towards the basement, "And put on some damn clothes!"

"That's my only shirt!"

"That's disgusting!"

* * *

Spike was glaring at me as I handed him the shopping basket, I'd had to force him to come here, but there was no way in hell I'd be living with a guy who only owned one shirt. It had taken some poking, and prodding, and one straight minute of flicking his ear to get him to leave the house. He couldn't fight back, but I'd half expected him to make a run for it - though I suppose with all the commandos running around, walking alone at night wasn't exactly optimal for either one of us.

Walmart didn't really have a lot of options to Spike's taste, but we were both borderline broke so here we were.

"I really am behind the times, aren't I?" Spike said, looking even paler than normal under the florescent lights. I raised a brow at him, and he continued, "Look at all these people, I could've been hunting here, bunch of blank eyed cows grazing out of shopping carts. I mean look at them Bird, they all think they're so safe here - but at three in the morning, wouldn't be hard to pull someone back into the garden section, have a nip, grab a beer from the back….hell I could've lived here, not like the workers are payed enough to notice."

I decided not to dignify his ranting with a response. He was just hungry, pigs blood didn't do the same trick that human did.

Spike picked out a few more black tees, a couple button downs in colors to match his punk rocker aesthetic, and at my insistence two new pairs of pants. In general Spike had better personal hygiene than most vamps, but it was a relief to know he could at least change his clothes now.

"So, you paying for this Bird?" He asked.

"No!" Why the hell would I pay for it? "They're your clothes."

"Yeah, well you made me get them!" He protested.

I was too tired to argue, "Half and half?"

"Fine, but I get to keep the -" I cut him off as my phone started to ring, more than happy to ignore him in favor of whoever was calling I pulled it out of my purse.

"Marley?" Xander asked, "You said to drop a line for the next apocalypse?" Oh no, "Well it's here."

"I'm on my way," I said, kind of wishing I could just go back home and sleep.

"What was that?" Spike asked.

"C'mon, let's pay, we've got an apocalypse to stop."

Spike laughed, "You think we're actually going to be useful?" I couldn't say he was wrong. One chipped vampire, and a demon of indeterminate and uncontrollable power weren't exactly high on the list of people to call in the event of imminent doom.

I rolled my eyes, "C'mon, let's pay, we're going to go watch Buffy stop the apocalypse...again."

* * *

The dewey decimal system was shit, absolute fucking shit. The Word of Valios, it shouldn't be that hard to find, but no - everything had to be converted into numbers, and those numbers meant things. And then, just to top it off, I had to figure out if The Word of Valios would fall under T, W, or V.

"Do you understand this?" I asked Willow, who seemed to be in heaven with all these old books. I'd feel bad that we'd broken in (courtesy of Spike) and potentially put thousands of years of books and scrolls in danger, but with Willow here it was like having several mean, old librarians wrapped into one short, redheaded package. Spike was still sulking after getting reamed for touching the pages of some old tome with his bare hands.

"Yeah, of course," Willow smiled, pointing to the cards under the books, "You see, the number here is the -"

"Don't care, Red!" Spike called from down the stacks, and Willow broke off meekly, "Love to hear you blabber on some other time, but I'm already so horribly bored if you start I'm gonna have to stake myself."

"He like this all the time?" Willow muttered.

"More or less," I shrugged, "He's in a bad mood cause I made him go shopping."

Willow stifled a giggle, glancing nervously over at Spike. I could feel his eyes boring into the back of my head, but it wasn't too bad anymore, he was all bark and no bite now. A few months ago Spike could have had me cowering with thoughts of neck wounds, death, and explosions of golden sparkles. Now he was just...Spike.

"Oh come on," Spike whined, "Does anyone take me seriously anymore?"

"No," I said shortly.

* * *

I'd have been happy to never see Sunnydale High again. Yet here I was, standing at the door of the burnt out shell, had it really almost been a year since this place had been burnt down? Or more importantly since we'd all been attacked by a giant snake.

There were a lot of memories in this place: The first time Joyce dropped me and Buffy at the door; the first time I'd met Willow and Xander; the first time Buffy had introduced me to her boyfriend, Angel, and I realized just because I was a monster it didn't mean I had to be bad. Evenings in the library, apocalypses in the library, back when we were all together just slogging through school and slaying.

Odd how things have changed.

Buffy was already moving ahead, Tara and Willow not far behind - wreathed in fairy lights - keeping her all backed up with magic. Then trailing at the end were me and Spike, I'd like to think it was a strategic move. Put the one who can't fight and the one who may explode if she does, and keep them a bit farther back from the demons.

I know I was being silly, and petty, and acting like some little kid...but sometimes, ever since Buffy had gone to college, I just kind of felt like we were drifting. If it kept going at this rate my best friend would be Spike, and to be honest I'd rather jump in a hellmouth.

"So," Giles began, "They have all the ritual materials, now they just need -"

"The sacrifices," Buffy finished.

"So, what? We're just going to stand around and make sure no one drags in any virgins?" Xander asked, hoping to lighten the mood. No one took the bait, but I'm pretty sure Spike smirked.

"Yeah," Buffy said, "That's the plan."

It wasn't too hard to find our way back to the library, just follow the snakey skeleton trail right back to the hellmouth. The place was a lot different than I remembered, less books more scorch marks. I'd like to say the demons were a new addition, but sadly they had been a staple of the Sunnydale High experience.

"Now what?" I asked, staring at the demons who had already begun the ritual around the giant smoking crack in the ground.

"New plan," Buffy said, "Kill the demons before they go find any virgins."

She ran forward, sucker punching one of the demons in what I assumed was its mouth, and the rest of us quickly followed suit. Stop the ritual, stop the apocalypse, go home and get my deeply needed sleep. I burst forward at a run, and then ducked, sliding past a demon as I grabbed for the stolen bones.

"Bloody -" I heard Spike curse and a large whump, followed by a series of smaller whumps. Poor guy couldn't even fight back...I wasn't too worried.

The earth shook and I stumbled, the bones scattering out in front of me. What the hell was happening? Last time I checked I hadn't seen any sacrifices, and if we were playing by the virgin rule of thumb I was really the only one in the group that could have been chucked into eternal damnation. I needed to fix that some time soon...I didn't like being labeled "grade A sacrificing material".

"The demons!" Xander yelled, "The demons are the sacrifices!"

Well that certainly made things harder.

A familiar snarl made me turn, Spike had vamped, roaring and spitting as he whaled on the demon in typical Spike style. A lot of flashy spinny kicks, and a series of powerful right hooks. I decided that were other things I needed to focus on, like potential world ending, not the (maybe?) deadly man I currently lived with.

Ignoring the spilt bones I turned, trying to figure out how on earth I could be helpful to the situation. Xander hit a pile of broken rock, and the demon he'd been scrapping with broke for the hellmouth, stumbling over the bucking earth. Just like the night I'd been captured by the commandos, while I wasn't particularly adept at fighting, I was easy to trip over. So I sprinted, dove, and tried not to yelp as big demony feet tangled up over my ribs.

"No you don't!" I yelled, scrambling out from under it, grabbing it by its flappy ears, and yanking back. It roared, rearing back from the hellmouth, and tumbling back on top of me. The breath went out, and it was all I could do just to keep hanging on to the beast.

"Bird!" I heard someone yell behind me, Spike, it had to be Spike he was the only one who used that name. I briefly wondered why he cared, but then he was there, grabbing the demon by the throat and ripping him off of me, "You all -"

He didn't finish the question as the demon's fist connected with his cheek.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, glancing at the rest of the scoobies standing a little ways away, and of course...the other one. Riley. Superman had shown up just in time to save the day, all commando-ed up, and Buffy had had the gall to keep who he was from me. I wouldn't have been so upset, but the guy had been one of the ones who brought me back for a bit of "poke and prod" as Spike would've put it.

For all I knew he would be willing to kill me if he figured out who I was.

The vampire himself was watching me and Buffy intently, I knew the others were out of earshot, but vampire hearing was a bit more sensitive. I didn't mind this time, he deserved to know about Riley too.

"I'm sorry, I've just been busy."

"Too busy to tell me you've been hanging out with the guy who wants to play with my insides!?" I snapped, doing my best to keep my voice down.

"No! I...I didn't know about that until this morning. I promise!" She sounded sincere, and after years of living with her I could almost always tell when she was lying. She hadn't known. "I just thought he was a normal guy from Idaho."

Well at least she hadn't blatantly put me in danger or anything. I wasn't happy, but I didn't have to be angry. Wasn't her fault...like she'd said...she was busy. In a few more months I'd be up at UCS with her and everything would be normal again, no need to make a big deal out of nothing now.

"People live in Idaho?" I asked, and to my relief she smiled and the two of us giggled, the tension calming.

"I really am sorry," Buffy said, "I should have told you about Riley, supernatural soldier gig or not."

"It's okay," I reassured her, "Just drop a line next time, or I don't know, take me out patrolling or something - I've missed hanging around vampires I'm allowed to poof."

Buffy smiled, glancing over at Spike, "If he just happened to fall on a stake, I wouldn't ask questions."

"Hey!" Spike yelled, "Hurry up!"

* * *

I had just put on my comfy pants when I heard Spike run down the stairs, duster billowing out behind him and a sword in hand. Where the hell had he even found that? Where the hell did he think he was going? He wasn't supposed to be going places unsupervised, though now that the chip wasn't working right I wondered how Giles really thought we were going to enforce that.

Spike wasn't a man who liked to be told what to do.

"Where are you going?" I asked, trying not to sound too much like Joyce.

"Patrolling," Spike said matter of factly as he headed for the door, and slammed it behind him. I looked down at my comfy pants, and groaned. If I got killed in comfy pants cause of him, then I hoped that he got caught in the glow and burned up with me. Fucking asshole. Jumping off the couch and pulling on my shoes I sprinted after him.

"Spike! Spike, wait up!" I yelled, running after the glint of steel in the street lights. It had to be three in the morning, we'd just stopped an apocalypse, I don't know why he felt the need to go out now. I wasn't letting him go alone though.

"You didn't need to come, Bird," he said, not really looking at me.

"Yeah I did, what if your chip goes off the fritz, and your all helpless again?"

He stopped, looking down at me, "You saying you care if I die?" His brow furrowed, yeah that was weird.

"Definitely not," I said quickly, moving ahead of him. I could feel him watching me as I walked, and I didn't dare turn around. I was blushing again. I hated this, since when did the biggest jackass of a vampire I'd ever met make me blush? Since when did any vampires make me blush? I wasn't Buffy, I'd seen what happened to Buffy, I knew blushing over vampires never lead to anything good.

"You got a weapon on you?" He asked, catching up with me, "I actually got a reason to not want you dead, Slayer would stake me faster than you could sing Little Bird."

"I don't sing," I grumbled.

"Yeah, you do, hear you in the shower every morning." Oh no, he could hear that? He glanced down at me, noticing the terror on my face, "Don't worry, Bird, you got a nice voice."

I made a point of watching my feet as we walked, this was the exact reason I didn't want to be living with a vampire.

"Here." He pulled a stake from his duster, "Keep this on you and don't get killed, I don't fancy the Slayer dusting me just yet."

* * *

I had no idea where we were going, but it wasn't one of Sunnydale's many graveyards. Spike wasn't patrolling he was hunting. He knew exactly where he was going as he led me through alleyways and the other dark corners of town that most people knew to avoid no matter what time it was. Demons lurked here, demons and vampires living in broken down buildings that Sunnydale's high body count had emptied until no one bothered to come back.

"You stay behind me, alright Bird?" He said as we walked between an old warehouse, and a pretty skeezy bar, somewhere in the not so distant distance thunder rumbled, "Just stake anything that runs for the door."

"Aren't you going to get in trouble?" I asked, "I mean, you're planning on killing your own kind."

He waved me off, "You humans do it all the time."

"Yeah, we call them murderers, and they get fifty years to the electric chair for it...and I'm not human." I said, muttering the last part.

"Right, keep forgetting that," he said as he tested the edge of his sword against his fingers, "Alright, since you're tagging along we're going easy. Vampire, bit of loner, owes me some money - we're going in, we're going to kill him, and then I'm getting my fifty bucks back."

I'd have been a little less okay with the situation in different circumstances, but a vampire was a vampire. So what if I was starting to feel like I was walking into a mob movie? A lame mob movie, where the stakes at hand were fifty dollars and a singular vamp. I'd take what I could get, I'd been almost as bored as Spike recently.

The thunder was getting louder as we walked, and then with a brilliant flash of lightning the sky broke and the rain started to pour.

"Oh come on," I whined, "Really?" I didn't mind thunderstorms, but I really preferred to watch them from inside.

Spike, however, appeared to hate them. Cursing, he grabbed me by the arm and yanked me into the warehouse, furiously wiping water from his coat.

"Spike, what the hell?" I snapped, rubbing at my arm, he had a killer grip.

"Didn't want the leather getting wet," he explained, as I watched him with dead eyes. This was because of his fucking leather jacket? This man was the biggest wimp I'd ever met, brilliant fighting skills or not.

"Spike," someone growled, someone who wasn't me. Five vampires were standing with fangs bared.

"They don't look like they like you," I muttered, inching closer to him.

"No, no they do not," he said slowly, "Get behind me Little Bird, just watch the door." He pushed me, surprisingly gentle, farther back. With a roar he launched himself forward - steel whirling as he took off the first head, and the vampire crumbled into dust. I clutched the stake, watching Spike dealing with three of the remaining four at once. He was a flurry of steel, and fists, and feet - another head came off.

I was so distracted by the brawl, it never occurred to me I'd lost track of one vampire. That is until arms were wrapping around my waist, I could feel my heart start to go haywire which I was sure did nothing to help me in the current situation.

"Don't you just smell delicious?" The vampire growled into my ear, a large hand over my mouth so I couldn't yell for Spike. "Not human, but almost as sweet." His nose trailed over my throat, "Tart, like cranberries." Great, I'm fucking Thanksgiving to vamps.

Spike was still busy with the other two vamps, I was in this on my own. I kicked out, trying to pry myself from his arms.

"No you don't," he growled, fingers lacing through my hair as he yanked my head back and sunk fangs into my throat. I could feel the blood rushing through me, my head getting lighter with each pull as I counted down the seconds before I'd glow. My vision started to burn gold, the vamp too busy eating to notice what was happening.

I didn't want to die.

And just like that there was light, golden points rushing out as I tumbled to the floor in a shower of dust. My head spun, and I felt like vomiting. That hadn't actually happened in so long, and the last time Drusilla had put a sword in my belly. This was different, I hadn't been nearly as close to death, yet here I was watching the world painted in gold.

I glanced up, expecting to see Spike in a pile of dust like the others. He wasn't though, must've been out of range. I didn't have much time to think of anything else as gold faded to black, and I slumped to the floor.

* * *

"Up you go, Bird," Spike mumbled, as he pulled me to my feet. His arm was wrapped around me, and I reluctantly leaned into him as we stumbled out of the warehouse. Sword and stake were forgotten on the floor, not that I ever would have remembered - I kind of felt like I'd been hit by a train. Somewhere between the blood loss and the magic I'd become incredibly light headed, the world spinning in a mishmash of rain and light.

Spike was saying something to me, I wasn't listening, couldn't listen. Instead I just tried to keep my eyes open and my feet underneath me. I wouldn't ever tell him this, but I was grateful for the feel of his arm around me, for the words he was murmuring. For all I know he could've been calling me a slag or something else appropriately Spikey, but it was still comforting.

I could've killed him. Oddly, that wasn't a nice thought.

"You still there, Bird?" He asked, and I nodded, trying to keep my breathing even. Were we almost home?

"Still here," I said, voice straining.

"Good, you die and I'm good as dead too," he said with something that might have been a laugh. We were soaked through, but at least he didn't have body heat of any sort. I could already feel the shiver setting in, it was chilly, out of season for a thunderstorm really...with my luck there was another apocalypse coming.

I'd never felt so relieved as when he dragged me up the front porch steps, and into the kitchen. Still reeling from bloodloss, the world started to spin as he easily lifted me up onto the counter. I shivered again as his fingers trailed my throat, blue eyes intent on the wound in my neck. I vaguely wondered if he was thinking about taking a taste, if I would even stop him if he tried.

"Spike?" His eyes moved up to find mine, and the shivers weren't from the cold anymore. God what was I getting myself into? He looked, I couldn't believe I was thinking this, but he looked handsome. All that gel in his hair and run loose in the storm, leaving it a wayward mess. His eyes looked brighter too, but maybe that was just cause he'd gotten to kill things again.

"Just a bit, Little Bird," he said, taking a clean dish towel and running it under the tap, "This is gonna sting -"

He broke off as the back door opened, glancing nervously at the Slayer who now stood in the kitchen.

"Spike, what the hell did you do?" Buffy growled. I'd like to say I tried defend him, but between the blood loss and the massive case of fuzzies I would have been lucky to get more than a word or two out at a time.

"Wasn't me, swear on my own grave," Spike said, scrambling to prove his innocence as Buffy's fist hit his nose, "Bloody hell!" He doubled over, clutching his face, "I don't know why I bloody deal with this shit." He growled, and just like that he was gone, the door slamming behind him.

I glanced down at the warm dish rag next to me.

"Did he bite you?" Buffy asked.

I shook my head. I didn't think he would have, he'd had more than one chance tonight and never taken it. I didn't quite know what Spike wanted from me, but I didn't think it was a meal - whether I smelled like Thanksgiving or not.


	8. All Night, Again

**I'd like to thank those of you who have favorited or followed this story, and a special thanks to all who reviewed. So sorry the update took so long, I went to college. It takes a surprising amount of my free time hahaha. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Eight - All Night, Again**

I'd given up on this game a long, long time ago. When playing poker with a witch who's more than frivolous with her magic, one will find there's little hope in winning. Or worse, when playing with an over competitive ex-demon who not only doesn't understand the rules, but simply doesn't give a fuck about them, there's not even a point in trying. Now I was just watching Willow try to out cheat Anya, who was out cheating everyone simply by being too stubborn to argue with when she took your chips as poor Xander watched his wiener shack money dwindle away.

The bite on my neck had bruised and scabbed into what could be considered the world's worst hickey - there was no way in hell I was showing up to school with this, I'd be dead. So instead I'd been pestering Xander and Anya, who were so wrapped up in each other that they never questioned why I wasn't in class at eleven on a Wednesday.

It was great really. Perhaps a little lonely, assigning myself as perpetual third wheel, but I didn't have many other options. It was here or hang out with Giles (who would make me go to school anyways) and his books. A few days ago I would've had Spike, but ever since the whole bitey-glowy incident I hadn't seen him.

He just never came back, even left all the clothes he'd just bought.

Was it weird that I missed him?

"Poker!" Anya yelled, slamming her hand of pure junk onto the table, and pulling the pot to her side.

Willow protested, "No way! My hand's way better than yours, I've got three jacks!"

"Well I have a seven and a king, that's a holy number and royalty, so I win," Anya said matter of factly.

"That's just not how it works!" Willow was getting frustrated, "Xander tell her!"

He shook his head, looking more than a bit terrified as Anya's gaze fell on him, "Whatever makes you happy, sweetie." He offered a timid smile and I had to try not to burst out laughing.

"Money makes me happy," Anya said with a grin, "And I'm making much money right now."

"Oh yes you are," Xander grumbled, putting his last couple of bucks into the middle. Poor guy.

There was a knock at the door, and we looked up. Buffy. I'd hardly seen her since the world had almost ended (again), and without my pet vampire I'd missed her all the more. She was smiling, she must've been hanging out with Riley or something. He seemed to be good for her, there was certainly less angsting than when she was with Angel (though mark my words, I'm sure I'll have to go back on that statement one day, the Slayer business doesn't come without angst).

"Hey guys, gambling going well?" She asked.

"Oh yes, very well," Anya said, that beaming grin hadn't faded since she raked in the first ten dollars. Now at fifty we were all broker than before, "Would you like to join? I want to win your money too."

Buffy shook her head, "No. No, thank you. I have patrolling to do, and a desperate need for what little cash I have left." Anya frowned, but Buffy ignored her, "Hey, Marley, I'm going to check out Sunnydale Memorial later, you want to come with?"

I smiled, "Yeah, I'd love to."

* * *

There was a time when patrolling was a normal, even arduous, chore. Now, it was the most interesting thing that had happened to me all week...well maybe except for the almost-apocalypse...but after that. Considering that all we were doing was gossiping while sitting in a dark graveyard, I was starting to realize how truly dead my social life was.

"So...Parker's definitely out of the picture?" I asked.

"Oh, definitely. He's not coming around anytime soon, not after Riley punched him," Buffy said with a smile, and a laugh bubbled up from my chest.

"Oh my god, really?"

Buffy nodded, "I never asked details, but he mentioned something about 'defending my honor'."

"Well, I guess chivalry isn't dead after all." Lucky girl, with her big, strong, considerate boyfriend. I'd ask her to set me up with one of his friends if I didn't know that our dates would be dinner, a show, and a surgery.

"What about you?" She asked, "Any new boys in your life?"

"Nope," I lied, I didn't think mentioning the small (and hopefully squashable) crush I was forming on Spike would do either of us any good, "Totally boyless." You know what? I technically wasn't lying, I wouldn't exactly call Spike a boy. An undead man-child maybe, but not a boy.

"What about school? That going well?" She asked, and tried not to stiffen.

"Yeah, great." Technically that wasn't a lie either. I'd hardly been to school the past few weeks, I had no idea how I was doing.

"No demons?"

"Nope, you'd be surprised, not being on top of a hellmouth has done the student body wonders. The death toll hasn't been this low in twenty years." That part was definitely true, and despite the plus side of fewer murders it had been undeniably boring. Sunnyhell had become Sunny-dull: The trailer park of dead eyes and broken spirits.

"Well that's - oh here we go." Buffy jumped up, twirling her stake into stabbing position. A three vampires, who looked like they'd never left a rave in the seventies, were stalking towards us. I picked up my stake, keeping a ways back. I was just there for company and a "all goes to hell last resort". I didn't need to get in her way.

"Hey guys, you're kind of late to the party aren't you?" She quipped as the first vamp lunged forward, getting a prompt stake to the chest, "Too bad you missed it by about thirty years." The vamp collapsed into dust, leaving the other two looking a good deal wearier.

"Slayer," the larger one growled.

"You got me," Buffy grinned, and leapt forward, kicking him squarely in the chest. In an ideal world she would have easily staked this one, and then moved onto the second before it even had a chance to drop its fangs. But this wasn't a perfect world, and Buffy tumbled to the ground after a right hook to the cheek, and vamp number two had set her pretty yellow eyes on me.

"Shit…" I mumbled, clutching my stake a little harder. I'd already played this game with Spike, and I'd lost. I didn't need to be playing slayer when I couldn't even control my demons. "D-don't think I won't grill you...like...like a steak." I finished lamely, holding up my little wooden stick.

"That was awful," the vamp commented, halting her advance.

"I know, I'm sorry….I'm new at the whole punning thing."

"What about slaying?" She asked.

"I'm not going to answer that question." The answer was that I was an old hand at being bad at it, and she seemed to know without me having to tell her. I had too much pride to admit I was an easy meal. The vamp snarled and lunged, and with a pitiful yelp I fell under her weight - stake toppling to the grass.

A fist connected with my cheek, and I suddenly had the horrible feeling that she was the kind of vampire who liked to play with their food. Long nails dug into my ankle as she leapt off me and swung. I screamed, flying through the air just far enough to get elbowed by a stone angel. I could swear I heard the vamp laugh...what a bitch.

"Buff-" I started to call, but before I could finish the word hands clamped around my throat. My eyes frantically flitted between the bumpy faced bitch in front of me, and my only chance at salvation who was fighting much too far away for my liking.

I'd survived the glow last time, but I didn't know how to make it kick in. Didn't know how far it would go, who would get caught in the crossfire. Burning Buffy sounded a lot worse than frying my goldfish, or Spike for that matter.

However, I didn't think I had much of a choice anymore. The vamp's brow crinkled even more as my vision started to go gold. Maybe if she'd run right then she would've escaped, but a few seconds later she was dust, and I had a massive headache.

"Marley!" Buffy yelled, and I squinched my eyes shut tighter. Maybe this was what hangovers felt like.

* * *

My cheeks were pink from windburn as I dragged myself up the stairs to Buffy's floor. I'd ridden my bike here, and between the cool weather and the breezy weather it had been nothing short of a miserable ride. I just didn't feel like being alone right now...and I knew Giles was busy researching, so I'd hoped Buffy would be a better option.

Also trying to talk to Giles about the whole...glow...thing was nothing short of aggravating. I was worried. It had happened twice now, twice in the matter of a few days. It was getting worse, and the only big change I'd had in my life was a group of science soldiers poking into my insides. They'd fucked up Spike, what if they'd fucked me up too?

Not bothering to knock I let myself in. "Buffy?"

"Nope," Willow's voice answered, "No Buffy, I think she's out with Riley."

"Oh," I said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"But, in the meantime you can hang here," Willow said, bouncing up off the floor, "We were just about to do some spells if you want to watch." She had the biggest grin on her face, one I hadn't seen since she and Oz were together...oh. I looked down at the slightly mousey girl on the floor and it hit me, Willow had a new crush.

"Hi, I...I don't think we've met." I said, sticking out a hand that the girl nervously took, "I'm Marley."

"T-Tara."

"So how do you guys know each other?" I asked, looking between them.

"Wicca club," Willow said, suddenly sheepish. She must've figured out I'd guessed, "We uh...we wanted to try out this crystal Tara's grandma gave her."

"Well, I've got nothing else to do so, spell away." I said, plopping down on Buffy's bed.

* * *

I still hadn't gotten to talk to Buffy, but right now I just wanted to forget about monsters and demons, and pretend I was a normal girl. The band was good tonight, and Anya had managed to find a margarita (which she gave me a sip of), and I was having a good time. Buffy still hadn't shown up, but tonight we'd have the gang back together for a night of all-american fun.

"No Tara tonight?" I asked Willow, who had seemed more than a little off in dreamland tonight.

"No, I thought since it was just a scooby-gang thing she should sit this one out. She can meet everyone later." I nodded, silently thankful. If couples were allowed then between Xander and Anya (who were already absorbed with one another), Willow and Tara, and Buffy and Riley I would be the convenient seventh wheel.

"So you and Tara...you guys official or anything?" I asked, and Willow blushed.

"Well...no, but…"

"But you like her?" I was prying, but I often had little else to do with my life.

"Well...yeah." She said with a smile, and I giggled, and then she giggled, and it was a whole big giggly mess. "You're okay with that?"

"What, that she's a girl?" I asked, "Of course. I'm a demon, I don't see how lesbian is any weirder." We giggled again, "Does she like you back?"

"I think so," Willow smiled, "Oh look, Buffy's here!" She said, pointing towards the entrance where Buffy was struggling with her coat. Riley helped pull the sleeves back for her, which was sweet...wait. Riley?

I glanced at Willow who shrugged. What had happened to scoobies only? I couldn't help but be a bit annoyed, but it wasn't like she'd...oh no. My heart started to beat a bit faster as one after the other the commandos started to pile in. The worst part was that I recognized them - a couple from my great escape with Spike, a few from Thanksgiving - if I knew who they were, they could certainly figure out who I was too.

Hostile twenty eight, the golden girl who liked her kidneys exactly where they were, thank you very much.

Willow shot me a look, seeming to know exactly why I looked so panicked. The commandos were coming over, and one of them seemed to be squinting at me. Without a moment to spare she tossed me her jacket, which I pulled on as I jumped from my chair, pulling the hood up just as Buffy arrived.

"Isn't it kind of hot in here for that?" She asked, and I shook my head.

"I'm not feeling too good," I forced a cough, "think I'm going to go home. Sleep." With that, I pulled the hood further over my face, and practically broke for the door. My heart still pounding as I speed walked down the dank alley.

What the hell had she been thinking? Had she been thinking at all? Oh god...I was starting to sound like Giles.

I kicked a can as I walked, missed, and pretended I'd never even tried in the first place. I wasn't really sure where to go, but I knew I didn't want to go home, and all my friends were playing with the men who wanted to treat me like guinea pig.

Well not all my friends...if I wanted to endure scalding tea I could go find Giles. Or...Spike. Wasn't that much of a difference, they were both British and liked hot drinks. Sure one liked English Breakfast and the other had a penchant for A negative, but otherwise… They actually had the same taste in literature, I'd noticed - never pointed it out at risk of inciting it murder - but the two had more similarities than they cared to admit.

Spike just cursed more.

Feeling the need to curse and rant without feeling like a tattletale, I found myself wandering towards the Restfield Cemetery. No one had said anything to me specifically, but I'd heard Anya grumbling to Xander about him not letting her give Spike a housewarming gift. There was no harm in trying to find him, he had to be around here somewhere.

I started opening crypts, most were empty save the dead people. Well, the slightly deader than I was looking for people. I'd almost given up when I walked into a crypt with a couch.

"Spike?" I called, shutting the door behind me, "You home?"

"Bird, what're you doing here?"

* * *

"Oh," Spike laughed harshly, "So you decided to just lead Captain America this way!" He was glaring at me, and any fond feelings that had lead me to come here melted away. Why'd I ever think Spike was a sympathetic person?

"No of course not!" I snapped back, "They're all dancing at the Bronze. So unless you care to join them, I think you're safe."

He grumbled, but he didn't argue further.

"I just wanted to lay low around here for a while," I said, deciding to make my appearance seem more about necessity than the fact that I was just really lonely. Spike nodded, and figuring I was welcome I plopped myself down on his couch.

"Any of them recognize you?" He asked something that, if I thought about it hard enough, almost could have been concern.

"One looked pretty suspicious, but I don't think he was sure."

"Pretty shit of Buffy," he commented, "inviting a small army with a warrant on your head."

"I don't think she realized," I said in half hearted defense of my friend, "I mean, she's kind of love struck...you did some pretty stupid shit for Dru back in the day."

He scoffed, "Oh yeah?"

"You remember when Dru stabbed me?" I asked.

He nodded, "Back when Angelus was still getting toothy, I remember."

"You dragged her out of there about a minute before I went up," I mimed the poof of golden light, "Could've been toast."

"Yeah, well I didn't know that, so it wasn't stupid. Just getting Dru out before the Slayer staked her, you were pretty irrelevant."

"Thanks," I grumbled, and he just shrugged. It was quiet after that, and I busied myself with looking around his new home. It was as dark, dank, and creepy as one would expect. The tattered red couch kind of fucked up the aesthetic, but it was more comfortable than the mausoleum at the center of the room so I wasn't going to make any jabs about it.

"So now what?" I asked.

"What, you expect me to entertain you?" He raised an eyebrow, and I shrugged. After about thirty seconds of internal conflict he stood, and extended a hand to me, "Want to go for a walk?"

"Enh why not?" I took his hand, letting him pull me up, and doing everything in my power not to blush again. I needed to get this damn crush under control, it was silly at best...dangerous at worst, and almost certainly going to get me trial-less judgement from my friends. I dropped his hand first, and tried not to read anything into that.

* * *

Spike swaggered. I really didn't have another, less pretentious sounding word for it. I'd never taken the time to notice it before, but without a doubt, Spike swaggered. Everything that man did was for his own cocky, ego-fed, self image….or maybe he really was just that confident.

Somehow I doubted it. I'd seen him back in my house, sulking around. The swagger was back, and it was for one reason and one reason only. He was a murderer again.

Now we were just wandering amongst the gravestones, completely and utterly aimless. Every once in awhile I would stop to trace names I could hardly see, and Spike would patiently wait a few feet behind me. Caroline Murdy had a pretty dove carved over her name.

"So, you're a demon right?" He said. I could feel his eyes on me, tingles tracing up and down my spine. I tried to shake it off, but knew I couldn't. God, what was wrong with me?

"Yeah." He knew that already, what was he getting at?

"You've got the whole, sparkly hulk thing going on, what else?" I looked back at him with a furrowed brow...sparkly hulk? He'd sat himself up on one of the graves, looking pleased with his joke even though it had gone way over my head.

"Sparkly hulk?"

"Yeah, you know," he said, talking with his hands as he went, "You get hurt, and the big guy comes out. Except the big guy's the fourth of July sparkler of death instead of the green body builder."

Yeah...that wasn't nearly as funny as he thought it was.

"What else you got in there?" He asked, "You can see in the dark pretty well."

"I can?" I sure as hell wasn't aware of that. I was getting stronger wasn't I?

"There's not a streetlamp for fifty meters, but you're reading grave stones. Buffy and the Scoobettes sure as hell can't do that." Spike said, jumping up off his stone, and motioning for me to keep walking with him, "You know, I could kill you."

I hadn't really thought about that, some weird disconnect I had about my whole...demon thing. Half the time, if I didn't think too hard, I could believe I was actually human.

"Will you?" I asked, not particularly concerned. Some stupid part of my brain had come to trust Spike. Spike who _had_ attempted to murder me at least twice previously, and lumped me in as collateral damage three or four times. He was a killer, an asshole, and more often than not plain out annoying. Yet here I was, playing twenty questions in a graveyard with a deadman.

"Nah, not worth it. Kill the only one of you I can stand? Your sunshine mojo would just take me with you anyways." He shook his head, "I do have half a - Bloody hell!" He roared suddenly, hitting the ground.

"Spike?" What the hell should I do? What the hell was -

"Hostiles seventeen and twenty eight have been spotted." The familiar commando code came from a ways back as a hand gripped my wrist and pulled. The grass was cold and dewy, and Spike was cold….and thankfully not dewy as he leaned over to whisper in my ear.

"I can smell five of them, got us surrounded. When I say, we run north. Alright, Bird?"

I nodded, heart beating quickly. Footsteps were closing in, and Spike's grip around my wrist tightened. If there was one thing on this earth that I knew, it was that I didn't want to go back to clorox hell. They knew us now. They knew that at the very least Spike was smart if defenseless, maybe even what I was capable of. There would be no chance to escape again. We'd die down there.

And if there was one other thing I knew, I knew I didn't want to die.

"Go!" Spike whispered harshly, pulling me to my feet and taking off in a dead run. I just had to pray I could keep up.

"Hostiles are moving north, hostiles are moving north."

Spike leapt a headstone, that I just barely managed to dodge around. Fuck him and his vampiric athleticism. If I had to be a demon, why couldn't I be something that could run a mile without wheezing?

"C'mon, Bird, hurry up!" He growled, and I tried not to think too hard about the commandos closing in behind us. If they got me I didn't think Spike would slow down for heroics...hell he couldn't even if he wanted to with that chip of his.

"Where are we going?" I panted, putting on an extra burst of speed to match stride with him.

"Not a fucking clue!" He snapped as we hopped the hedge, and took off down the road towards town.

* * *

"Did you just….sniff me?" I asked, turning to glare at Spike. I knew we were in close quarters and all, but he could've shown some common decency and pretended I wasn't food. After half an hour of running we'd ditched them, and ended up in an old factory. We were safe there.

Until they found us.

So we ran to an abandoned suburban home. Where we were safe.

Until they found us.

Over, and over, and over. Until I could hardly run, and the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. Now we were locked in the trunk of someone's Mazda, Spike's chest pressed to my back. I wasn't entirely sure what time it was, but I thought I could hear birds chirping. I hated birds in that moment, I didn't need anyone announcing that I'd just pulled yet another all nighter with Spike.

"No," Spike said, rather defensively, "You gonna blame a man for breathing?"

"You're dead, Spike. You don't need to."

"Still feels nice." I felt him shrug behind me, and I was about to ask him what the hell that mean when I heard footsteps coming up the sidewalk. Oh god, they'd found us again hadn't they? "Shhshh," he hushed me gently, not that I'd been talking. One arm snaked around my waist as he propped himself up, and I found myself hoping he chalked up the sudden jump in my heart rate to fear.

"What're you doing?" I whispered.

"Sniffing."

"No, the arm."

"Just getting a better angle, love, don't get all claustrophobic on me," he muttered, focusing more on whoever was approaching our hiding spot.

It was quiet for a moment, the both of us stiff as corpses, just waiting.

"It's not -" He broke off as the car suddenly shook, "Bloody….fuck," He hissed, holding me a little tighter as the car rumbled to a start and took off, throwing the pair of us into the wall. I could hear faint voices in the cab, but couldn't hear a damn thing they were saying.

"What're they saying?" I asked, the words coming out all slurred and gooey with my mouth squished between the trunk and Spike.

"Mama's got an important meeting with the general manager at eight o'clock. So us and the kiddos are going to grandma's house for the day," Spike grumbled.

"So what're we going to do?" I asked urgently. We weren't going to stay here forever were we? I knew Spike was a little more familiar with enclosed spaces than I was, but I wasn't exactly liking my temporary coffin. It smelled like a mix between wet diapers, cheerios, and the spicy iron and leather scent I'd always associated with Spike. It wasn't exactly a combo I'd ever wanted put together.

At least it wasn't summer.

He took a deep breath. "Nothing," he said, as I felt himself relaxing against me.

"Nothing? What do you mean nothing? We're...we're going to grandma's house! Where even is that?"

He shrugged, "Doesn't matter, Little Bird. At least the soldier boys'll get off the scent."

"So...we're just going to stay here?"

I felt him nod behind me, "Take a kip, Bird. Could both use the sleep."

So that was that then. I closed my eyes, and fell asleep next to a dead man in what might as well have been a coffin...a coffin that smelled like baby poop. Honestly I'd been in weirder situations.

* * *

I woke to the sound of a siren, and practically jumped out of my skin, elbowing Spike in the nose in the process. Over the sound of his muffled cursing I was pretty sure I could hear the mom in the front seat muttering something a bit milder...oh no...I had a sinking feeling that they weren't being pulled over by the real cops. I didn't know how the commandos had found us, or what weird ass batcave technology they were using...but the dread that comes from being trapped between tazers and the trunk of a car was starting to set in.

"Do you think…" I whispered to Spike as the car slowed to a stop.

He nodded.

"What're we going to do? We can't go back there!"

"Don't you think I know that, Bird? I may have had my fun wearing intestines for a hat back in the day, but I never fancied wearing my own!" He growled, and I couldn't help but notice that his grip around my waist was getting tighter as the door to the cop car behind us closed.

"Spike, I know you don't have to breath," I wheezed quietly, "but I do." He let me go just a little bit, and I felt my rib cage move back into place.

"Ma'am, I'm Officer Riley Finn," the voice came from up near the driver's side. Oh shit, what if he recognized me? We hadn't been formally introduced but he'd seen me with Buffy from time to time, "I'm going to need to check your vehicle."

"What? Why?" The woman asked.

"Ma'am, please just pop the trunk," Riley said, calm and commanding. There was a metallic bing as the lid above us cracked open, a tiny ray of light causing Spike to curse and duck behind me.

"What do we do?" I asked, trying to sound more urgent than terrified, "He's going to know who I am."

"Oh and that's our bloody biggest problem is it? I'm about to join to dust bunnies in this damn car." I'd almost forgotten it was daylight by now, shit...Spike might have had his proverbial vampire balls cut off but he was a hell of a lot more resourceful than I was. I didn't stand a chance if that trunk popped open and he turned to dust.

Riley's footsteps were getting closer.

Behind me Spike started to huddle down into his coat, fingers slid into the open crack in the trunk, "You're going to punch him!" Spike hissed.

"What?" How the hell was I supposed to punch Riley? He was huge.

"He's going to open the trunk, you're gonna stand up, and you're gonna pop him right in the nose."

"Spike, I can't -"

I didn't have time to finish the sentence, the trunk was ripped open, and I surprised myself by hopping up like a jack in the box with my fist already cranked back. We made eye contact, just briefly, and I could've sworn I saw a spark of recognition in his eye. I was going to have to deal with that later.

It hurt like a bitch when my fist smashed into his nose, but based on the sound of his groan it hurt him a lot more. Spike, starting to sizzle in his coat, scrambled out of trunk and started running. The mother in the car behind me was yelling in shock, Riley was about to stand back up again, and Spike was making a beeline for the sewers.

"Sorry!" I yelled to Riley, and took off after my vampire.

I didn't have time to think as I jumped down into the manhole, and I'd really rather not think about what I'd just landed in as I splashed waist deep through the sewers. I was going to kill Spike for this. Real fucking gentleman, hadn't even had the decency to catch me, he'd just let me fall into sewage. I'd tripped on landing and went in head first.

"How do they keep finding us?" I wheezed as he pulled me up out of the gutter and onto the little service walkway. I was doing my best not to pout, my day had gone from bad to shitty. Literally.

"Fuck if I know, Bird." He didn't even give me a chance to catch my breath, just dragged me to my feet and started walking. The last twenty four hours or so were really starting to get to me, I hadn't slept other than that brief nap with Spike. Between the sewage and the sleep deprivation my eyes were burning.

"Where are we going?" I asked, and he shrugged in response. "Do you know how to get to Giles' from here?"

"Why would we go see him? Are we going to read G.I Joe and his buddies away?"

"He's kind of the only adult supervision we have, he's usually just my go to," I said, trying to keep my feet moving as Spike dragged me along, hand tight around my wrist. I might have blushed, but something about both of us being covered in shit really took the romance out of it. No, no romance. There was no romance...god I was going to need to get this under control.

"I'm older than him, you know," Spike said. See, there's another reason why liking him would be a bad idea. He could literally be my grandfather, plus several greats.

"Yeah, but you don't count. Your solution to a bad day is a fifth of whiskey, and a spot of violence to lift the spirits," I said, mocking his thick accent.

"Thanks, Bird."

* * *

"Giles!" I yelled as the two of us, Spike smoking, burst through the front door covered in sewage and probably looking every bit the demons we were, "Giles, help!"

Three faces looked back at us in a mixture of astonishment and disgust, at least Giles and Xander tried to mask the latter part, Anya nose was wrinkled so much she looked like one of those rabbits she was so scared of. I was breathing hard, and my blonde hair had turned a sickly shade of gunk-brown.

"What the hell happened to you?" Xander asked.

"Buffy's boyfriend, we couldn't seem to shake them, they've been after us all night," I muttered, as Spike stalked into the house, stripping off his dirty clothes as he went.

"Spike, no!" Anya said suddenly, jumping up, "The carpet!"

A shirtless Spike, who had made it over to the liquor cabinet and was pulling out a bottle of expensive looking whiskey, paused and looked back at her. "Why do you care?" He asked, popping off the lid and taking a swig, "Not your carpet, is it?"

She took a moment to think, and sat back down, "No, I suppose not. Carry on."

"Well, it is mine," Giles muttered, "And for that matter that's my bourbon your drinking."

"Need it," Spike grumbled, "The poofs shot me, shoulder hurts like a bitch."

Giles looked at me, eyebrows raised, and I shrugged, "It's been a really long night."

"Well, let me go get garbage bags for your clothes," Giles mumbled, heading for the stair case, "I'm afraid we'll need to burn everything you have now."

I'd forgotten about Spike being shot, everything had happened so fast I'd hardly realized what was going on when he fell. He hadn't exactly complained about it till now either. Frowning, I glanced at his back where something was embedded in the mud and dark vamp blood on his shoulder blade. It flashed, just a little red light like one of those phone towers.

What the fuck?

Curious, I stepped up behind Spike, who was too preoccupied with drinking to notice me, and watched. It was a silver ball, maybe the size of my top thumb joint. The little red light went off every ten seconds or so. Brow furrowed, I reached out and poked it.

Mistake. Spike roared, spinning around and back handing me hard enough to send me into the wall. As I tried to see past the stars in my eyes, I vaguely wondered what kind of idiot pokes an injured vampire. Oh yeah, me. I brought a hand up to my jaw, that was going to bruise wasn't it?

"Hey! Hey!" I heard Xander yell, and as I shook off the fuzzies, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Spike ignored him, "What the fuck, Bird?" Spike yelled, doubled over and obviously still in a good bit of pain.

"You're blinking," I mumbled, standing up straight though it took a bit of effort...everything's a bit harder when your brain feels like it's made of feathers, "Your back is blinking."

Spike looked at Xander, who shrugged, both looking utterly bewildered. He frowned, trying to peer over his shoulder without much success until Xander spun him around so his back faced the mirror. The little ball flashed, and Spike cursed, taking another swig of bourbon.

"That's how they keep finding us, isn't it?" He growled, slamming down his handle, "Been leading them right to us like a...like a fox with built in hounds." Yeah, he was about as tired as I was, and starting to get just a bit tipsy. It made sense though, how else could they have tracked us down in a moving car?

"Well we're going to have to get it out," I said.

"Or we could just throw Spike out," Xander offered, "Save us the hassle."

"No." Spike, giant asshole that he was, didn't deserve to get thrown out into the burning sun to get run down by jar heads. Whether I had some stupid crush on him or not. "It shouldn't be too hard...just need some tweezers or something."

"Great," Spike muttered, taking another drink, "I'm going to need more of this."

* * *

A few minutes and a lot more yelling later, we had one drunk vampire and a bloody tracking device that no one wanted to hold and no one knew what to do with. Four of us sat around the coffee table, the little ball flashing in the center. I blamed Buffy for this, and maybe it wasn't fair, but somehow I doubted we would've been found if they hadn't seen me that night. Right now though, I had bigger things to worry about than being pissy with Buffy. Primarily, at exactly what time I should expect my appointment with the local paranormal doctors.

"Well now what?" Xander asked.

"We could smash it?" Anya suggested, and we all gave a noncommittal shrug. Taking that as a go ahead, she picked up Giles' favorite mug and slammed it down. We all flinched as ceramics went everywhere; and the tracker, unharmed, flew off the table and right into the back of Spike's head.

"Ow," he mumbled, hardly moving from his place sprawled across the loveseat. He was still pretty plastered, though considering he'd downed a whole handle of whiskey I was kind of impressed. Vamps could hold their liquor.

"What about Will?" Xander asked, "You think she could magic it to death?"

"Do we have time to get her over here?" I asked. The commandos were a bit like flies at a barbeque: fast, sneaky, and after your sandwich. Except in this particular situation I was the sandwich, which I can assure you is an incredibly nerve wracking thing to be. At least Spike got to be drunk, Giles was a stickler for things like rules and underage drinking laws.

"Do we have any other options?" Xander shot back as he picked the tracker back up and set it on the table, "This thing's like a little terminator, it's got a red light and everything."

"Yeah, and if you wait long enough someone will even come and shoot you," I grumbled. "What if I just take it? I could run it down to a park somewhere, ditch it, and not leave this house for the next week."

"Absolutely not," Giles said.

At the same time as Spike said, "Yeah, why not? Bird can handle herself." While I was a bit touched by his faith in me, I wasn't entirely sure that was true. Still I didn't see a ton of options. I'd rather have a chance to run then be a sitting duck in here.

"It's far too dangerous," Giles said in his admonishing librarian voice, "With the device on her, finding Marley would be -"

"A walk in the park?" Anya offered.

"Yes…" Giles said, cleaning his glasses out of exasperation, "And unless we can track down Buffy I doubt we have anyone who could hold them off should Marley run into trouble."

Spike barked a harsh laugh, before opening his eyes to look at Giles, "What, gonna pit Slayer against Loverboy?" He asked with a slight slur. Deep down I knew Buffy would choose me over her new buddys, but I had the same sense of anxiety about that situation. She wouldn't ditch me...but it would complicate things.

"Why don't we just call Will?" Xander said, getting up and heading towards the phone, "She might be able to buy us some time, and if the soldier boys show up we'll figure it out then."

* * *

With Spike still passed out on the couch - a couch Giles was now muttering about burning considering we both still smelled like the inside of a sewer - and Anya and Xander playing a game of go fish I couldn't concentrate on, I found myself nervously pacing the kitchen while Giles made tea for the two of us. My head hurt from Spike's slap, it was my fault really and considering it was Spike I wasn't expecting an apology.

I just hoped it didn't bruise, I already had the vamp bite. I didn't need to go to school looking like I'd been getting into fights for the last week...or I guess go back to school. I hadn't exactly been in a while. Still, I was pretty that my kidney placement was much more important than advanced placement. I'd worry about school later.

"Chamomile with honey," he said, pushing a mug towards me, "Should help with the nerves."

"Thanks," I said with a soft smile.

"And do stop pacing, you're going to give me a headache just watching you." Giles took a sip of his own tea as I tried to fight the urge to keep moving. The tea did help, it was warm and removed just enough tension to ease the pain in my head. Didn't do much to stop the gaping pit that was growing in my stomach, but that wasn't going anywhere till that tracker's little red light stopped flashing.

Not that it would end there. The Initiative was relentless, and didn't help me that they had a Slayer on their side. Buffy might not want them to go after me, but the whole girl with super powers thing sure gave them enough free time to look for escapees.

"What are we going to do?" I asked, glancing over at the sleeping vampire.

"Well, when Willow comes I'm sure she'll have -"

"No...I mean, after. I can't even go hang out with my friends anymore without risking getting kidnapped again. I'm sure Spike doesn't have it much easier, Buffy's been showing them around the graveyards - a few more weeks and he's going to have a small army playing in his front yard."

Giles was quiet for a moment, deep in thought, "I...I hesitate to propose this as an option...especially for you, a little less so for Spike. Have you considered that perhaps Sunnydale isn't the safest place for you anymore?"

That hurt. What hurt more was the somber look Giles was giving me. These people were my family...where was I supposed to go? With who? I may like Spike, perhaps even a little more than I should; but how was I supposed give up my home of the last four years?

"I know Spike isn't ideal...but the two of you do seem to get along. It will forever puzzle me as to how...but perhaps just for a little while." He spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen. He didn't want me to go either.

"I don't -" I started, when I was suddenly cut off by a yell from the living room.

"Marley!" Xander was peering through the curtains, "Marley, they're in the road!"

"Damn it," Giles muttered, setting down his tea.

Back in the living room the tracker was blinking faster than before, and I was starting to panic. Anya, who hadn't quite taken the the time to take her head out of her cards was muttering about matches.

"Xander," she said, "If you don't hurry up, I'm just going to have to pronounce your fish dead and throw your cards down the toilet."

"Toilet!" Xander exclaimed, letting the curtain fall.

"What?" Almost all of us said at once, excluding Spike who hadn't woken up yet.

"Toilet!" Xander exclaimed with a grin, as if that was going to make any of us understand. Shaking his head, he grabbed the tracker and took off towards the bathroom. A few seconds later I heard something flush.

"Ohhh, toilet," I said as it hit me. Darting to the window I glanced out into the street, two commandos as two confused looking commandos twisted this way and that trying to follow the signal. Oh thank god, I was safe...for now. I still had Giles' suggestion weighing heavy in the back of my mind, but for now I didn't have to worry about getting cut open again. Laughing, I ran up to a rather proud-of-himself looking Xander, and threw my arms around him.

"That was good, right?" Xander asked, grinning.

"So good."

The front door opened, and we all looked up to see Willow peering in with a bag full of crystals and herbs, "Am I too late?" she asked.

"Yes," Anya said, "But Xander saved the day, so it doesn't really matter."

"Okay," Willow said a little awkwardly as she stepped inside. Her nose twisted up within a matter of seconds, "Oh god what's that smell?"

Yeah, I probably needed a shower.

* * *

Everyone had agreed that it was best if Spike and I laid low for a little while, and so I actually had Giles' permission to skip school for a few days and hide out in his house. Willow brought me some fresh clothes from my house, and picked up the clothes Spike had left there while she was at it. I was showered, clean, and ultimately exhausted.

Buffy still hadn't shown up, though I wanted to talk to her about her soldier-buds a bit before I...before I brought anything up about skipping town. I knew I missed a lot of school, but something about forcibly having to leave it and everything else I knew behind sat wrong with me. I'd already done that once before.

I shook my head, I didn't have to think about this right now.

I laid down on the couch across from Spike, who was still dead asleep, half naked, and covered in grime. Everyone else had gone home, except Giles who had gone out to the butchers to prepare for Spike's stay. I wanted nothing more than to use the quiet to close my eyes and sleep, just for a little bit...or maybe for a couple days. I hadn't decided yet. Pulling a throw blanket over myself, I laid back and closed my eyes - rubbing my stiff jaw one last time before I rolled over to sleep.

"Bird," Spike mumbled, and my eyes lazily opened as I turned to look at him. Was he still asleep? "Bird," he said again, this time a little more forcefully.

"What, Spike?"

"Sorry about your face…" He trailed off, but his eyes were still open. That pretty blue color set above dark circles that might have just been vampirey but were probably from exhaustion.

"Sorry about poking your bullet hole," I replied.

He laughed a little, "Yeah, that was damn stupid of you."

It was quiet for a moment, and I thought he might have drifted off again.

"I heard what Giles said to you," he muttered, "'Bout leaving."

"How?"

"Vampire," he said, all matter-of-fact like, "We've got good ears, and we're good at playing like we're sleeping...I wouldn't mind though, what he suggested about us taking off together. If I have to get saddled with one of you idiots, I'd rather it be you."

"Thanks, Spike," I said with sleepy sincerity. His eyes fell shut, and in a few minutes we were both fast asleep.


	9. Hands On Learning

**Thanks to everyone who has followed and favorited, I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Special thanks to Lacey Solane, Tanner Clark, Darkangel1967, subchan, and Laurafxox for the reviews. I've been working to replot and figure out some things since it's been so long since I last worked on this fic. So hopefully I'm going to end up with a slightly stronger plot than I would have before.**

 **Anyways, enjoy!**

 **Chapter Nine - Hands On Learning**

The peaceful quiet I'd fallen asleep to had been utterly shattered by the time I'd woken up. Trying not to groan, I opened my eyes just enough to glare at Spike. He'd showered, and traded out his dirty pants for clean clothes so at least he didn't smell bad. Still, hygiene aside, he could be fucking loud when he wanted to be.

"No! No! You weren't supposed to fall for her, you lovelorn jackass!" Spike yelled over the swell of the violins. He must have been watching Passions again. I'd had him in my house long enough to learn to tune that shit out, otherwise I would've gone insane.

"What are you talking about?" Another, shriller, voice yelled back, "She's perfect for him. If he were made of peanut butter, then she would be the sweet tang of bananas and pickles to even out his swarthy nuttiness."

Other than the wet sound of kissing from the television, the room became very quiet for a moment.

"An," another voice, I'm pretty sure it was Xander's, came from near the dining table, "What are you putting on your sandwiches?"

"Good things," she quipped, "like this relationship. Donny and Melanie are just meant to be together. It's like me and Xander, if Xander were a Spanish bad boy with a heart of gold." When had everyone gotten here? I thought they'd all gone home. I was supposed to have a few days in hiding with nothing to do but relax ,and no one to deal with but a couple of Brits.

"No, I don't like it," Spike muttered, "He's just going to break both of their hearts."

Xander hopped up, walking past the couches on his way to the bathroom. "If she starts watching this," Xander said, patting Spike on the shoulder, "I'm going to stake you so hard."

"What the hell is going on?" I grumbled, propping myself up on my elbows.

"Nonsense," Giles grumbled from the kitchen.

Trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes, I sat up and yawned. The whole gang was here, sans Buffy, and last time I'd checked we didn't have any major apocalypse scheduled...those usually rolled around in May. So, why the hell weren't they just letting me sleep?

Glaring at Anya and Spike, who had gone back to bickering, I kicked off my blanket and stumbled over to the kitchen where Giles was waiting on his tea pot. I had hardly even gotten there, a desperate plea for caffeine already on my lips, when he pushed a hot cup of coffee across the counter. A lot of cream and a little bit of cinnamon, just how I liked it. Nodding a thank you, I took a sip, and shuffled off towards the dining room table.

I'd never really been a morning person, part of the reason I tended to play hookey, but to be honest I was pretty sure it wasn't even morning. The window into the garden was black, so unless it was some ungodly hour I was pretty sure it was night. I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping, but it hadn't been long enough. My eyes were heavy and I sort of felt like I'd been hit by a truck.

Someone needed to remind me to never do cardio again. This running thing just couldn't be good for me.

"So, what's up?" I asked, pulling out a chair next to Will, who had her nose ten feet deep into what was either a textbook or a spell book .

"Hm?" Will didn't even look up, pen wandering over to a notebook where she scrawled out _vervain._ Definitely a spell book then.

"Pow wow, why?"

"I dunno, Buffy called us. She didn't really explain, but she's on her way." Will didn't exactly sound particularly worried, but with everything we'd been through Godzilla could show up outside Del Taco and no one would be all that fussed. So, shrugging, I cupped my mug in my hands and relished the cinnamony-goodness while I had the chance.

Despite the lingering exhaustion I was starting to ease into the moment. It wasn't often I got to spend much time with everyone these days, especially time that felt as domestic as this. Taking another sip of coffee I peeked over Willow's shoulder, it looked like she was making a shopping list of the witchy variety.

"Spell?" I asked.

"I'm hoping so," Will said with a hint of uncertainty, "It's a lot more complicated than I'm used to, I'm not even sure if I'm going to be able to find everything. Like, the catnip won't be hard; but where on earth am I supposed to find a bell blessed by the Goddess Batset?"

I frowned, what the hell was a Batset? "What are you even working on?" I asked.

Willow ducked her head, a sheepish smile on her lips, "Me and Tara wanted to try to make a cat."

I couldn't help laughing, her most complicated spell yet and she wanted to make a cat. Shaking my head, I took another sip of coffee. I guess everyone had hobbies; some made model airplanes, some made kittens. Pretty soon Willow was giggling too, and my cheeks hurt from smiling.

"What're you chirping about over there, Bird?" Spike's voice called from the living room.

"Willow's making a -" Will shook her head violently, and I paused, "A...she's making a new recipe for spaghetti sauce!"

Willow gave me a, 'really?' look, and I shrugged.

"And that's funny?" Xander asked.

"It's...it's going to be blue!" I called back, and then hissed at Willow, "Why the kaibosh on the cat?"

She shrugged, "Giles is gonna start nagging about risking tampering with gods to make a kitten." When I raised a brow she continued, "It takes a lot of power to create a whole life form out of nothing."

I mean, that made sense, but why go through the trouble? There was a pound down the street. Still, if they were determined, there had to be a slightly easier way that didn't involve higher powers...Giles was a stickler for caution and all, but even I had to admit that getting dragged to a hell dimension by a pissed off God was a lot to risk for a kitten.

"What if you don't make it...you just, change it? Amy's a rat now, why not turn a beetle or something into a kitten?"

"That's going to be a pretty stupid kitten," Willow said, when the front door opened.

Buffy was standing in the doorway, a storm on her face. There was a little tug in my gut, I wasn't exactly happy with her. However, pissed as I was, I couldn't help but be worried. She looked a bit too serious, a bit too upset, and a bit too angry. The gang had all paused what they were doing, peering over at our friend. Well, everyone except Spike, he was still watching Passions.

"You were stupid to pick him, love," Spike muttered. We all ignored him.

"What's up, Buff?" Xander asked, "You look kinda -" he motioned around his face.

"Walsh tried to kill me," Buffy cut him off, stalking in and slamming a busted up...gun...of some sort down on the coffee table. Willow and I got up, filtering into the living room with everyone else.

"Are you quite sure?" Giles asked, cleaning his glasses as he stepped out of the kitchen.

"I don't know what else to call being trapped in a sewer with two demons and a faulty gun, motherly affection?" Buffy asked, "Cause I wasn't really feeling it while avoiding being turned into a slayer-shishkabob."

"Tiger-Mommy affection?" Xander suggested, earning a few exasperated glares.

"Walsh is pretty hardcore," Willow said, "but she's now stupid. I don't think she'd risk someone just to test them...would she?"

Buffy shook her head, "I'd seen those demons before, we had them in quarantine...that place is almost impossible to get out of and Polgaras aren't exactly brilliant. Someone let them out, and if they're after me then it's not going to take long for them to find you. I don't think it's safe for any of us right now."

"So what, we're going into hiding or something?" Willow asked.

"Welcome to the club," I muttered under my breath.

"For now, just till we sort this out." Buffy was pacing, graceful as usual, but she seemed stressed. It was quiet for a moment.

"And what did Riley…" Xander started, trailing off as he figured out how to phrase his question.

Buffy frowned, "What about Riley?"

"Yeah," a deep voice came from the door, "What about me?"

Holy shit that man was quiet. I stiffened, gaze darting to Spike. He was already looking at me, jaw tense. Captain America only had eyes for Buffy right now, but that didn't mean he wasn't one gander around the room from realizing that his escaped hostiles were at large…and watching soap operas.

"I believe that Xander was suggesting that you may have had a role in the assassination attempt on your girlfriend," Anya piped up, helpful as always.

You could see the gears turning in Riley's head as he looked at Buffy, "What?"

"How much do you know?" Buffy's expression was guarded. The two were still pretty wrapped up in each other, and I found myself inching towards Spike. Honestly I was hoping I could just blend into the floor, but if me and my favorite vamp had to make a break for it so be it. He had a cozy crypt we could stay in for a week or two...or until the government made enough budget cuts to scrap the Initiative.

"I...I don't know," Riley said, sounding more than a bit lost, "I wasn't there until the end, I was out on a mission." Said mission being me.

"Walsh tried to kill me, Riley."

"It's got to be more complicated than that, there's something we're missing I -" He turned, and stopped short, his eyes locking on Spike. It didn't take him long to find me either, and my heart immediately jumped into my throat. Well fuck. "Those are Hostiles seventeen and twenty-eight."

"No, no I'm...I'm just a friend of Xanders," Spike said in the worst southern accent I've ever heard.

At the same time, seeing no way out, I fessed up, "Yeah you got me."

Spike rolled his eyes, but stood, "Alright, yeah, I'm your guy."

My muscles were still stiff from running all last night, but my flight instinct was starting to ramp up more and more as Riley looked between us and Buffy. I backed up ever so slightly, bumping into Spike's chest. Fingers brushed up against my waist as he placed a hand on my hip. If Riley decided to call anyone in we were going to have to bolt...just this time, with a price on Buffy's head too, it would be all of us.

At least I had a little more solidarity now.

"I've been looking for them for ages," Riley turned to Buffy, "And you've known where they were all this time?"

"It's complicated," Buffy said, glancing at me, "They're not what you think they are. They're not...monsters per say."

"Oi," Spike called out from behind me, "Speak for yourself, Slayer. I'd be monstering all up and down Sunnydale if I could...just ran into a couple roadblocks s'all." I could feel a slight rumble in his chest as he grumbled under his breath in frustration. My heart started to beat a little fast for the completely wrong reasons given the situation, and I had to pinch myself. Crushes were evil.

"Okay, well Spike's complicated," Buffy said, "But, Marley wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"That?" Riley said, pointing an accusatory finger towards me, "That wouldn't hurt a fly?" I didn't exactly appreciate being called 'that'. "That put one of our Docs in critical while it was _unconscious_ on the operating table, just because it looks all American Pie with the blonde curls doesn't make it any less of a threat. It was scheduled to be euthanized the day it escaped."

I hurt someone? My brow furrowed, I hadn't actually hurt a person with my glowing before. I knew I could, but I'd always been so careful. I'd always made sure not to use my powers, I'd only ever gone all glittery on accident. Buffy looked at me again and, freaked as I was, I could see she was conflicted. What do you say to your boyfriend when he wants to put down your friend?

"Alright yeah, blame the Bird when you're the one who started snipping at her with scissors." Spike came to my defense, "You see a snake you don't know, you don't go poking at it with a stick."

"Riley you don't know her," Buffy said firmly, "And I promise you she's not a problem. The problem is your boss."

"Walsh wouldn't try to -"

"Have me killed? Because she did."

Riley huffed, looking more confused than angry, "Look I'm going to go figure this out, alright? I'll talk to Walsh, and after I've gotten this mess sorted we can discuss…" he glanced at me and Spike, "Other things."

"You planning on giving your buddies a tip on where to bag a helpless vamp and a little girl when you get back?" Xander asked.

"Not helpless," Spike interjected.

"We're going to be getting you fanged dentures soon," Xander shot back.

Struggling to find too much humor in the situation, I waited as Riley looked at me. "No," he said, finally, "No I'll leave them alone. For now." With that he headed for the door again, and disappeared, leaving the rest of us in silence. Buffy made eye contact with me, an apology on her face that I didn't entirely notice.

I'd hurt someone?

Cool fingers squeezed my hip reassuringly, and without thinking I let myself lean a little farther into Spike.

* * *

We'd chosen Xander's basement as the best place to hide out till we were in the clear. His parents weren't exactly the type to ask questions about why so many people, including a strange, full grown man (vampire), and the old Sunnydale Librarian were living in their basement. With the added bonus that no one from the Initiative really knew that Xander existed, or where he lived, it seemed perfect.

Despite the mildew, and Anya's graphic descriptions of exactly what had occurred in the bed we would be sleeping in tonight...okay so not perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than the shock guns and cold white walls that awaited me in the Initiative.

It would be cramped, very cramped, as Spike let us know through some rather adamant complaining while the rest of us set up our sleeping arrangements for the night. Xander had gone upstairs to rob his parents linen closet, and Giles had set about blowing up the "inflatable mattress" that was starting to look more and more like an armchair with each breath.

"Alright," Xander said, trotting down the stairs with an armful of blankets, "Girls can take the bed." Oh God, I'm pretty sure I'd rather sleep on the floor...ants or no, "I've got the armchair, Giles has the mattress -"

"Are you entirely sure you know what a mattress is?" Giles mumbled, staring at the purple monstrosity skeptically.

Xander ignored him, and kept going, "And I have one nice pile of sheets for Spike."

"Oh come on!" Spike muttered from the arm chair, "You're giving me this shit on purpose."

"Yes, I am," Xander said, handing him his sheets.

"Don't you sleep on top of a stone slab anyways?" Buffy asked, pulling a pair sushi-covered of pjs out of her bag.

"Yeah," Spike shrugged, "Doesn't mean I don't expect a bit of genuine hospitality."

As usual, we ignored Spike and went about our business.

I felt heavy, partially exhaustion, but mostly I just felt like someone had shoved a lump iron down into my stomach. I felt tired, and like I wanted to sleep for a few years. Or just disappear, or...I didn't even know, but part of me would really like to be wrapped up in my bed back home clutching my pony Harold (newly restuffed).

I glanced at Buffy, and couldn't help but feel that pang in my stomach multiply. I couldn't even tell if I was angry anymore. The Initiative had kind of fucked her over too. Still, that didn't change the fact that sometimes I felt like I was turning into as much of an afterthought as Spike was.

Sighing I grabbed my pjs, and went behind the makeshift sheet-curtain to change. Luckily I'd already had all my stuff at Giles' so I had my favorite cloth shorts and some tanks...which would have been more comfy if it weren't winter in an unheated basement. Ready for bed, I pulled the curtain back and practically jumped out of my skin.

"What the fuck, Spike?" I snapped, not in any mood to be scared. He'd come and stood right up next to the sheet, just waiting.

"Pop outside for a word?" He asked, nodding towards the door.

"I'm in my pjs, and it's like fifty degrees outside." Not freezing or anything, but you come to expect a certain level of warmth when living in southern California. He just kept staring at me expectantly with those bright blue eyes that could be surprisingly boyish when he wanted them to be. I sighed, "Fine."

Buffy watched me curiously as I followed him outside, and I nodded a sort of 'don't worry' to her.

"Why're we staying here, Bird?" He asked as the door shut behind us.

"Everyone is," I said. Not that I particularly wanted to be with everyone, but I didn't want to be with Spike either. I wanted to be alone. I kept thinking about what Riley had meant by 'critical'.

"I mean in Sunnydale. You heard G.I. Joe, you had a euthanasia date. You think they won't schedule a make up if they get their hands on you again?" He looked genuinely concerned, an odd thing for Spike, but...I didn't want to leave. Sure, if I had a bunch of gun men right on my ass I'd jump in Spike's blacked out car and get the hell out of dodge. Still, as lost as I felt right now I needed something to keep me grounded, and Sunnydale was home. My family was here.

"I...Why do you care?" I asked, trying to change the topic, even if just a little bit.

He shrugged, "Don't like the thought of you goin out with a needle full of poison stuck up your arm...doesn't seem right." I blinked, meeting earnest eyes just for a moment. He scowled, looking towards the ground. He'd always been good at not letting me fall behind, but I was trying to figure when he actually had started caring. He did, didn't he?

"Spike...I can't leave."

"What? You want to stay here and wait till Soldier Boy decides to put duty first and shafts the both of us?"

"You don't have to stay, Spike," I said, though I almost regretted it the moment I'd said it. He was my friend...still felt weird attaching that word to him...but I'd miss him. I spent more time with this vampire than just about anyone else these days. "If you need to get out…"

"What, you want me to just leave?" He asked, voice rising a little.

"Do you want them to stake you?" I shot back.

"No! That's why I'm saying we book it," he glanced over my shoulder, back towards the scoobies getting ready for bed, "Doesn't have to be forever, Bird. Just till we don't have death sentences on our heads...don't got the luxury of a lover boy on the inside to vouch for us."

I wanted to. Partially because I was scared, partially because I was scared I'd be even more lonely without him. Buffy hadn't exactly been a constant to be counted upon these days, and while Spike wasn't a beacon of responsibility he was there. Still, Buffy wasn't sitting in the clear anymore...I couldn't just leave her.

"Spike, I'm sorry...I -"

"Fine," he cut me off, "I get it." He didn't go back inside, stalking off towards the road. I let him, it wasn't exactly like there was much I could do to change his mind. If he was smart he'd skip town, I didn't think they'd let him live much longer if they got him either.

Swallowing hard, I took a deep breath and stepped back inside.

"What happened to Spike?" Willow asked when she noticed I was alone.

"I don't think he was a fan of the sleeping arrangements."

* * *

I woke up drenched in sweat and desperate for a fresh breath of air. Groaning, I tried to shift even just a little bit, but there wasn't much use. Four girls in one bed, and somehow I'd managed to make it to the bottom of the pile. My legs were asleep from the weight of an ex-demon, Buffy's arm was thrown over my face (and also covered in my drool, so ha), and Willow was peacefully snoring away with my boobs as a pillow.

Craning my neck as high as I could, I glanced at the clock. Seven forty was late enough to wake everyone up, and I wasn't going to make it much longer without being able to breath. So, I kicked out, kneeing Anya straight in the ribs.

"Ow, Marley!" She shot up, glaring at me with enough venom to make me remember her normal work day used to involve eviscerations.

Feigning the grogginess of having just woke up, I rubbed my eyes and yawned, "What?"

Willow and Buffy were shifting too, and beyond the curtain I was pretty sure I could hear the sound of a grumpy Brit muttering under his breath. Xander was still snoring, as he had been since we turned off the lights.

All senses of duty, morality, and general loyalty towards my family had wavered on and off over the night. I think it was around two AM when I heard Xander fart loud enough to wake Willow up that I began to regret not going with Spike...just a little bit. I knew I'd made the right decision, but there was a pang of guilt for letting him leave alone. I just couldn't win for losing today, could I?

I wondered how far he'd gotten last night, if he'd pulled over in some parking garage to sleep away the sun. He would be just fine, and knowing Spike he'd show up again. He had a tendency to do that.

Dragging myself out from underneath the pile of supernatural limbs, I suddenly felt incredibly cold as the air hit my sweat-dampened pajamas. Fresh clothes was first on my to do list, sneaking back home for a real shower was a close second. I had no plans to use Xander's parents' upstairs. By the time I'd pulled on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, Anya had turned on old cartoons. The coyote was about to get slammed when Giles stalked it in and turned it off.

"No," he muttered, and disappeared back through the curtain. Xander was up, and unsurprisingly perky...based on how much he'd snored he had to be the only one who'd actually slept.

"So," Xan said with a smile as he popped through the curtain, and made a beeline for the stairs, "Breakfast? I'll get us some breakfast, how do poptarts sound?" No one had a chance to respond before he was upstairs.

"I like cinnamon," Willow said halfheartedly as the basement door closed.

"It is far too early for this," Giles grumbled, stepping back through the curtain now in a fresh shirt and sporting his glasses, "What ungodly hour is it?"

"It's like, eight in the morning," I said. Not too early, I usually was up at six for school….you know, when I actually went.

"You know, Giles, maybe you should get a job," Anya said, reaching over and turning on the Road Runner again, "Xander actually works all day, and he has a great sleep schedule."

"Noted."

"Guys!" Xander yelled, thundering down the staircase with an armful of poptarts, "Guys turn on the news! Channel Five!" He threw everyone packets of chocolate sunday as Willow stole the remote from Anya and flipped the channel. A red 'breaking news' banner was scrolling at the bottom of the screen.

"The boy has been identified as Jackson Brooks, a fourth grader at Sunnydale Elementary who was found murdered in Sunnyside Park this morning by joggers," the news anchor said in her clipped, professional tone, "The cause of death is not yet certain, it seems that stabbing with a large skewer-like object is the most likely scenario. Any information should…"

Buffy turned it off, a glower on her face.

"It was the Polgara demons, it had to be!" She exclaimed, standing up, "I can't believe how reckless Walsh is, that little boy died because she released dangerous monsters for her own personal vendetta! I'm going to go out there, I'm going to kill them, and bring justice to that little boy...and then I'm going to - This would all sound a little more impressive if I weren't wearing my yummi-sushi pajamas, wouldn't it?"

We all nodded, and Anya piped up, "Yeah, they kind of lack authority."

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, and bent down, pulling out a stake and a couple wicked looking knives and tossing them on the bed. She grabbed her clothes and went to go change, leaving the rest of us to munch on pop-tarts in the stale basement air. I really didn't want to be here right now.

"Buffy," I called to her through the changing-room sheet, "Are you going to need some backup? I could always -"

"No," she said quickly, opening up the curtain, now fully dressed, "Too dangerous for you. Riley's friends are going to be tracking down those demons too, I don't need you getting caught up with them."

"Didn't stop you from bringing them to the Bronze the other night," I muttered, just under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," I grumbled, taking another bite out of my poptart, "Doesn't matter."

* * *

It didn't take long for me to make my escape. Anya and Xander started arguing about something stupid, I think it was her rights to organize his underwear; Willow started reading; Giles, exhausted, eventually passed out in the arm chair. No one noticed me slip out the door and start walking. It had taken me thirty minutes to get back to my house, it used to take ten but that was before Willows 'will be done' had done-d my poor bike into oblivion. So I walked, all the way back home, where I took a nice hot shower.

Finally clean, I grabbed the obligatory stake, the pepper spray of Sunnydale, and a sword. Buffy may not want me getting in the way of danger, but at a certain point of boredom you start feeling like doing something stupid. I was starting to wonder if over the years I'd secretly become an adrenaline junkie, and this year was just so boring that I was going through withdrawls.

Now that I didn't have Spike dragging me behind him through stupid situations, I supposed I should go out and create some for myself. Maybe even prove to Buffy that I wasn't so much of a liability I couldn't make it out there with a few soldiers after me, it wasn't like they hadn't tried to kill Buffy too. And you know...get justice for a murdered child…that was a definitely a goal too.

Flipping the sword's grip in my hand, not entirely sure how to use it but with the general idea that it was sharp and good at stabbing things ingrained in my head, I stepped out into the street. The Polgara's had been seen in the sewers, so, with Buffy heading towards the crime scene I decided I would try to find the demons themselves. It took more effort than I'm proud of, and a lot of grunting, but I got the manhole open and somehow managed to climb down the ladder with three pounds of steel in one hand.

The sewer smelled less than pleasant, a fact I knew all too well. So, as I wandered through the dark, I decided that maybe I'd rather risk being jumped and killed somewhere that smelled a little better. I took the first run off tunnel I could find, relishing the slightly cleaner scent of damp and mold.

It was getting darker and darker as I moved away from the dim light of storm drains and man holes. This whole place echoed, filled with eerie drips and musical drops, and each time my blade scraped the stone edge I practically jumped out of my skin with the image of claws in my mind. At least I hadn't run into any spider webs.

I had been walking through the pitch black for fifteen minutes; had taken what was either three lefts and two right, or two lefts and three rights; and had soaked my shoes down to my socks in freezing water by the time I realized I was lost. It was another five minutes before I heard the faint sound of something moving in the connecting tunnel ahead of me. I froze, heart in my throat, it sounded huge.

It wasn't just the gentle splash of feet in the water, it was the drag of flesh against stone that made me wonder if it was even able to stand up all the way down here. Doing my best to keep my breathing under control, I froze, hand tight around the hilt of my sword. Every once in awhile I would hear the scrape of something metallic in the tunnel ahead of me. Was it armed? It was getting closer and closer, and soon, if it hadn't been so dark, I would have been able to see it pass the intersection.

For whatever enhanced sight Spike said I had, it sure as hell didn't work down here where there was no light at all.

The footsteps became crisp and clear. It had to be no more than ten feet in front of me. Something clinked, and slowly, as if it were turning to look at me a little red light appeared at eye level. I had completely stopped breathing, wasn't really thinking, I just waited as we both stood in complete silence. Then, with the faint hiss of feet in water, the light rotated back into the darkness and the footsteps moved off.

It was a few more seconds before I really started breathing again. Then I had to consider my options.

I was lost, and had no idea where I was going. I couldn't see, and maybe if I thought hard enough I could get a little bit of glow going, but between my haywire powers and the thought of what my light might attract down here I discounted the idea. I didn't like the idea of running into whatever the hell that was again, but it also seemed to have an idea of where it was going. Maybe if I just kept my distance...it had left me alone the first time.

Taking a deep breath, I gripped my sword a little tighter, and started walking. Turning right to follow the demon I tried to keep my feet out of the water, hoping it wouldn't notice it was being followed. Really hoping it wouldn't decide it wanted a snack.

I'm not sure how long I followed the distant echo of its footsteps, but eventually the tunnel was enveloped in a faint bluish light. It grew stronger and stronger as I followed the curve, struggling to keep up right on the slippery, sloped stone. I was beginning to strongly regret my decision making skills today. And then there I was, daylight, and not a massive demon to be seen.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, I relished the feel of sunlight on my skin, and wondered how the hell I hadn't managed to get myself killed down there. Dumb luck, like usual. I jumped, taking the three foot drop from the culvert down into a puddle...not that I minded, my shoes were already drenched. I was out in the woods somewhere, and now I just had to find out how to get back to town.

The culvert was coming out of the sheer face of a small cliff, I must have made it into the hills. If only I could find a slightly more climbable part of the slope I could get on the high ground and see where I was. Wondering why no one in our group had ever invested in sword belts, or sheaths, or really anything to make weapon-carrying easier I started walking. This damn thing got heavy after a while, and my arm was sore.

I was so lost in thought I hardly noticed the massive demon as I passed him...oh, huh, I supposed I should have expected that. Things that big don't just disappear. I froze, feeling its eyes on me. He smiled, almost friendly if it weren't for the cold light in his multi colored eyes. He was taller than I expected, the red light having been on a chest plate not his eye...if he were any closer I would be craning my neck to make eye contact.

That wasn't the most surprising part about him though. I was more shocked by the frankenstein gig he had going on, a human face stitched directly into something more demonic, all finished off in shiny chrome plating. I swallowed hard, raising my sword ever so slightly. This thing was so big I'd have about as much chance to outrun it as I would to outrun a bear.

"You can put that down," he said, pointing to my blade with a clawed hand. I couldn't help but notice the Polgara skewer in his tacked on arm. Was this the thing that killed the boy? "I have no interest in killing you, I was actually hoping you would follow me here." He spoke in a surprisingly even and sophisticated tone. Most demons were so...gurgly.

I stayed quiet, watching him cautiously.

"What are you?" He asked.

"I...I don't know," I responded, a bit taken aback. It was the truth, I had no idea what I was. "What are you?"

"I suppose I'm trying to figure that out as well," he said, "I'm a bio-mechanical demonoid...but I still have questions. You intrigue me though, you have power. I've been curious ever since I saw you back home."

"Home?" I asked.

"Yes, home. The scientists were operating when you went up in the most beautiful light. The smell of burnt flesh, the screaming...chaos really," he said, a touch of awe in his voice. I just felt a bit like I was going to throw up, "It was so raw, organic, something that is as natural to you as breathing or sleep."

"No…" I said, backing up just a bit, I didn't want to be here. "It's not natural...I hurt people."

"You didn't hurt them, you showed them the potential that this project had. The things that we could do with someone like you."

"They were planning on killing me."

He nodded, conceding, "Correction, you showed _me_ the potential you had. The change you could help me bring…the beauty in the brutality of our mission. My mother spoke of you to me more than once, she said she had seen nothing of your like. If you weren't so dangerous she would have loved to study you more, your kind is so rare."

"I don't want to use that kind of potential...I don't - wait my kin-"

"We could be friends, you and me," he cut me off, "My name is Adam. What should I call you?" He reached out a clawed hand in a stiff mockery of a handshake. I wanted to run, but I kept looking at that retractable skewer and knew it could pop out faster than I could turn around. So, I extended my hand and put it in his. It was dry and scaly, and his claws were cold against my wrist as his hand engulfed mine.

"I'm Marley."

"Marley," he smiled, "I hope to be seeing you."

With that he left, the brush giving way as he disappeared into the trees. I watched him go, turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. I didn't really care where I was going.

* * *

I practically was running by the time Xander's house came into view, tearing through the backyard and down to the basement door. I burst in, and was a little surprised that no one seemed to notice...though to be honest running in with a sword didn't make you all that special here. Buffy was a bit too busy giving orders, and Xander and Anya were bickering about something that I just assumed was related.

Sighing, I leaned the sword against the bookshelf.

"Guys!"

"Look, An, I'll be fine I'm going with Buffy," Xander said, not looking my way.

"Guys!"

"Well we don't have time to waste," Buffy said, grabbing Xander, "Let's go."

"Guys!" I raised my voice to a yell, and they paused.

"Marley, I don't have time right now," Buffy said, a distracted frown on her lips as she brushed passed on her way to the door, "Something's wrong with Riley, I need to get to the Initiative."

"This _is_ about the -" And she was gone...Shoving down the resentful annoyance that was bubbling up in my gut I took a deep breath and turned to Anya and Giles. I frowned, glancing down at the puddle forming around my shoes. "Anya, do you have any fresh socks here? I'm out."

* * *

"So you're saying you ran into whatever it was that killed that boy?" Giles asked, grabbing a dusty old demonology book, "Anya and I had a feeling that whatever it was couldn't be the Polgara, the murder simply sounded...too intelligent."

"I didn't just run into him, I talked to him," I said, "and you don't need that. He won't be in there."

His brow furrowed, but he nodded and set the book down, "Why not?"

"Cause that book is old enough to be _your_ grandfather and...Adam looks like something out of the Terminator." The whole monster-mash science lab vibe he had going on I guess fit the Initiative, he'd said he'd called it home after all, "To be honest I don't think he was natural, he was all stitched together like Frankenstein."

"And you think this...Adam...killed the boy?"

"He had a skewer, like a Polgara...just kinda sewn in." It all fit, but I was more curious as to what he wanted with me, "He was kind of weirdly polite though. Friendly even."

Giles frowned, pushing his glasses a little higher as he sat down in the arm chair, "Well I suppose we'll just keep an eye out, see if he causes anymore problems. If he's as polite -"

"I'm worried he is going to be a problem though. Soon," I said, glancing at the door. Adam was too big, with a bit too much fascination with my...deadlier aspects...for comfort, "He saw me while the soldiers had me, and with all the sciencey stuff...I think he's from the Initiative."

"You think they made him?" He asked, and I nodded. What worried me most was that Buffy had gone there...Adam wasn't in the Initiative anymore as far as I knew, but what if they had more things like him? He had a sort of impenetrable confidence...I knew if he'd actually gone after me I wouldn't have had a chance. Even Buffy might struggle with something like that.

"Socks," Anya said, walking by and tossing them as she went to the snack stash Xander had made for us.

"Thanks." I pulled off my sopping shoes, relishing the toasty-warm dryness of fresh socks.

"When Buffy gets back we can ask her if she saw anything...odd," Giles said a bit distantly, still processing the idea of a franken-demon. I nodded, my own thoughts starting to drift off as well. He'd said 'my kind', Adam knew what I was, didn't he? The Initiative knew.

Giles had gotten up, wandering towards Xander's shitty coffee maker that produced something closer to sludge than espresso. Should I even bring that part up? I did want to understand what I was, what I could do, and how to control myself...it was just that, especially with Giles, he could get so pushy about it. Once he had a name and a dictionary definition he'd have drawn up a syllabus on Marley 101.

He'd probably make me train too. I already knew enough about my powers to know I didn't want to indulge them. The pain I'd caused, Adam said it had been organic. They did a lot more harm than good, so I kept my mouth shut.

Exhausted from my trek through the sewers I decided to take a nap. I could think of nothing better than a good hour and a half of unconsciousness right now. I almost screamed when I pulled back the curtain, coming face to face with a rather disheveled looking Riley. Cue the adrenaline...again.

"Where's Buffy?" He half growled, face all twisted like it was an effort to just be standing.

"Not here," I said quickly.

"Where not here?" He pushed past me roughly, grabbing a weapon belt off the chair.

"Initiative," Anya grumbled, "And I'm not happy about it. She took my Xander."

No one had the time to get to him before he bolted. I didn't particularly care to, even if he looked about as bad as Xander did when he had syphilis. I wasn't out to do any favors to the guy who wanted to euthanize me. Anyways, I'd rather not take a nap with his presence looming over me. Good riddance.

* * *

My eyes flickered open, rather excited voices were coming from the other side of the sheet. Groaning, I pulled myself out of bed and staggered out into the main room of our little hideout. The gang was all back.

"Yeah, it was big! Like basketball player meets linebacker big," Xander said, plopping down on his arm chair.

"Crazy strong too." Buffy looked a little distracted, eyes all distant, "It was like it couldn't feel anything I threw at it."

"So you met Adam?" I asked, grabbing a pack of gushers out of the snack stash. Sounded a lot like him: big, in the Initiative. Hell, they might have gotten to skip introductions if Buffy hadn't run out the door before I could talk.

She frowned, "How…"

"Met him out in the woods earlier today," I shrugged, glaring down at the stubborn plastic package. I was playing it off like it was no big deal, mostly because I was angry. Maybe Spike was rubbing off on me. "Was gonna tell you about it, but you kinda didn't have time," I muttered, the bitterness seeping through into my voice. Perhaps I'd been a little too sharp because suddenly it got real quiet.

"Marley, can we talk?" Buffy asked.

"No," I muttered, "I don't have the time."

From the moment I stormed out of the basement I knew I was acting like a little kid, but you know what? Sometimes the odd childish temper tantrum can be healthy...except for the burning shame and guilt as you walk away and remember you actually have nothing better to do and nowhere to be. Couldn't go back there now though, so I just started walking.

It would be too easy to find me back home, Giles' house was locked, and I had no plans to go to school to catch the back half of physics. Spike's crypt would be empty, especially since I'd chased him off too, and being alone sounded real good right now. So I started the long walk across town to Restfield.

* * *

The sun was starting to set as I wandered through the headstones, quickly making my way towards the big stone crypt at the center of grave yard. I threw the door open, and slammed it shut with a growl of frustration before throwing myself face first onto the musty couch.

"I was gonna sit there Bird, but uh, help yourself."

I blinked. Spike?

"I am gonna want to sit somewhere though, Passions is about to come on."

"Spike?" I asked, looking up. Sure enough, clad in his tight black tee and holding a steaming mug of blood, there he was. "I thought you skipped town."

He shrugged, setting his snack on the coffee table, "Changed my mind." Large hands gripped me by the shoulders as he sat me up, and plopped down next to me. Feet up on the table, blood in hand, and tele on he finally looked over at me. "So what brings you to my 'empty' crypt, Bird? Xander's mold pit that unbearable?"

"Just needed some space," I said lamely, and kind of hoped he wouldn't press it.

He could be a nosey bastard when he wanted to be though, perceptive too. "They start ticking you off? Buffy's been a right bitch to you recently."

"She's not being a bitch," I defended her, though on some level I agreed, "I'm just...not a priority I guess."

Other than the cheesy theme music to Passions it was quiet for a moment. His eyes practically burned holes in my skin as they traveled from mine down towards my neck, before finally he looked back to the television. He took a slip of blood.

"You look a little pale."

"You don't exactly have good lighting," I commented, motioning to the rather dark and dank crypt.

"You smell pale," he corrected himself, "Blood flow isn't right. What happened?"

I shrugged, "Just ran into something out in the woods, shook me up a little."

He twisted to face me, "Did it hurt you?"

I shook my head, "No. I mean he could have if he wanted to, Buffy couldn't even stand up to him and she actually knows how to fight...he just talked to me."

Spike frowned, eyes not leaving my face. When had he started looking at me like this? I was doing my best to squash this crush not...well there went my heart beat. I knew he could hear it, and we weren't exactly in a high stress situation to excuse it either. His eyes flicked down to my chest, ever so briefly, and I kind of wished he was just checking out my boobs. Cause then I could just call him a creep instead of dealing with my actual feelings.

"You sure?" He asked, a hand going up towards my face. My heart started beating even faster as his fingertips just brushed my cheek, then, all too fast, his fist closed and he jumped off the couch. And here I was still trying to remember how to breath, that bastard didn't even have to.

He paced a little ways, and then turned.

"Punch me," he said, offering his cheek in my direction.

"What?" Talk about a change of mood.

"Punch me. Right in the face."

I stood uncertainly, fist half clenched as I tried to determine how serious he was being. I wouldn't exactly hurt him, but I was real worried about the safety of my own hand. Vampires were kind of hard. He started bouncing a little, his normal cocky self.

"C'mon, Bird. Can't learn to fight if you're too scared to hit."

"What, you're going to teach me to fight?"

"Well yeah," he said, "Anyone else gonna bother?"

"I don't think anyone else has the time," I said, stepping a little closer. Fist still held loosely by my side.

"Well that's a damn shame. Can't leave you to get eaten by Sunny Hell's beasties while you come to terms with your own hellishness. Now hit me," he half yelled, so with a little cry I swung my fist right into his face. He didn't even flinch, "You hit like a limp noodle," he said, his lips curling up into a smug smile.

"Fuck off," I grumbled, starting to turn around.

"What gonna give up cause I'm telling the -" he broke off as I swung back around with a right hook. It was sloppy, more of a flail than a punch, but it did the job well enough, "Bloody hell!" He cursed, holding his nose and bending over.

"Fuck!" I hissed, grabbing my hand, that as painful as I expected. "Better?" I asked, a little out of breath my self.

"Still a noodle," he said, straightening up with a grin on his face, "But not bad, Bird, not bad at all."

 **Well that's it for this chapter, I thought about making it a little longer, but the last scene I was going to do would fit in better with the next chapter so I'm just going to leave it off here. Hope the relationship is progressing well enough without being unrealistic or anything, and I hope y'all are enjoying.**

 **I'd love to hear what y'all think, constructive criticism or praise (both make the writing go a little faster hahha)**

 **Thanks for reading, and see y'all soon!**


	10. Drop

**Hello everyone! Sorry for the long update gap, college happened. However, it's winter break and I'm trying to find a way to cope without the endless grind of essays and readings to keep me busy. So, here it goes. This chapter takes place in a sort of interim, it won't follow any particular episode plot - actually neither will the next one for that matter.**

 **By the way, sorry Marley's been so angsty lately. She's going through a phase, I'm pretty sure it'll get better soon. New thing that I don't think has come up before, Marley's last name. It's Kestler.**

 **I've also started updating the older chapters just a wee bit, the earliest ones are around three or four years old and you can tell with the grammar. I'm just cleaning them up a little, no major plot or scene changes cause I'm way too lazy for that.**

 **Anyways, hope you enjoy!**

 **Chapter Ten - Drop**

It was early Sunday morning, by early I mean ten thirty, and I was sitting alone in the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee. Mindlessly watching the clumps of cinnamon swirling on the surface of the creamy liquid, I tried to ignore the ominous threat looming over my head: homework. When was the last time I went to school? When was the last time I opened a book? _Principles of Physics_ was on the counter in front of me, relishing in its new occupation as thing-that-keeps-the-wonky-fruit-basket-missing-a-leg-up-right.

Even more glaring was the letter in an official manila envelope that sat just to my left. I'd turned it face down so that the big, red, rubber-stamped _URGENT_ on the front would stop watching me. It had come with the mail at least three days ago, and I'd found it when I remembered we had a mailbox this morning.

It wasn't my fault I hadn't been to school. I'd been busy with other, more pressing things...like keeping my kidneys in place. Or worrying about the Franken-demon who knew my name and what I was. Or...okay, yeah I'd spent a fair amount of time watching _Passions_ and sparring with Spike this past week - but in my defense, that was only this past week and after all the hell I'd been through I'd really needed a break.

Joyce was coming back tonight though, and on Monday I really would need to go back to school. I glanced at the letter, and half shoved it under the physics books. I had eight more hours to ignore my problems.

I took a sip of my coffee, and stretched a bit. I felt eighty. Getting pummeled mercilessly by a vampire every day for a week would do that to you though. I knew he had to be holding back since he hadn't thrown me into a wall, but damn was I sore. It was exhilarating though - fighting with him - and part of me itched to go over to his crypt now and beg for another lesson while I still had my freedom. He was a hell of a lot faster than me, and he kept me on my toes just trying to figure out what was coming next.

The front door opened, and I perked up, "Buffy?" I called.

I hadn't seen her since I'd stormed out of Xander's basement, and I was only a little bitter that she hadn't come to check on me. Childish, I know. I shouldn't hold it against her, she was in the middle of finals season over at UCS and she was actually a good student despite the demon bullshit she put up with. Unlike me.

"Hey," she said, pausing in the kitchen door. She looked concerned, a pout on her lips, "Can I talk to you?"

"Not like I have anywhere to be," I said, tone a little stiff. I hated that things were awkward between us. She was my best friend, hell she was the closest thing I had to a sister.

"What's been up with us lately? It's not just me, right, like I'm not crazy?"

I felt a bit guilty that her wanting to talk about this surprised me. I had been expecting more petty silence...which I guess made me the petty one. Now that it was happening I almost wanted to go back to stewing in my own bitterness, it was easier.

"No, it's not just you. I've felt it too...I've felt…" Hell, what did I even feel? "Distant, I guess.

She took a deep breath a nodded, walking over to lean on the counter, "I've been ignoring you for - especially because of - Riley, and I put your safety at risk for the sake of a boy and that was totally not cool of me...and I'm sorry."

I blinked a few times, "Um, thanks...I didn't...look I'm sorry too, I've kind of been acting like a little kid lately. I think I've been throwing more temper tantrums than Spike the last couple weeks." I giggled, and Buffy giggled too breaking the tension in the air.

"Is it totally stupid that he was actually the one who got me to come talk?" Buffy asked. He what? "I mean he kind of danced around it, and insulted you a couple times in the process. Something about you whining too much."

I'd accept that. I'd been a whiny little bitch for the last couple weeks and Spike had borne the brunt of it.

Buffy kept going, sitting at the counter next to me, "Still, I kind of feel like an idiot that I have to have _Spike_ point this kind of shit out to me...I mean it's Spike, he doesn't have a soul...he was right though. I um...we all miss you, we haven't seen you around in ages."

"I miss you too, all of you." I meant that I really did, but for some reason the words felt heavy and plastic on my tongue. The whole conversation felt...maybe I was still being a little kid, but I didn't trust it entirely. I fought off the urge to sigh, and smiled instead. Shit was just rough right now, things would work out. I was going to have to have words with Spike though, I appreciated the sentiment but I didn't need him getting his fangs in my business.

"So," I asked, "How are finals going?"

Buffy gave a dry, exasperated laugh, "Oh they're going." She looked up, eyes dead tired, "I think I'm going to have less of a soul than Spike before these tests are over."

I laughed, and stood up, "Coffee?"

"A world of yes," she said, and I went about starting a new pot. A couple seconds of pleasant, if stiff, silence went by as I poured water into the machine. Papers rustled on the counter, "Marley? What's the urgent notice about?"

"Oh nothing," I lied through my teeth, "It's just my report card, I think the principle's trying to push for parents to actually sign the damn envelopes before they come back."

"It's not open."

I laughed, hoping she wouldn't notice it was more nervous than genuine, "I think I'm gonna wait on that a bit...I was thinking till I'm twenty-one and can open a bottle of wine along with it."

"I might just have to join you in that boat, I'm totally freaking about calculus," Buffy said with a laugh, tossing the envelope back down. I let out an internal sigh of relief, and brought Buffy her cup of coffee. I could keep ignoring my problems for a bit longer...all of them.

* * *

Buffy had left to go patrolling with Riley hours ago when headlights shone through the front window and a car door slammed. My heart leapt, Joyce was home. Darting from the couch and out onto the porch I met her halfway up the drive with a squeal and a hug. Her bags clattered to the concrete as she hugged me back. I'd been living alone for far too long.

"You're home!" I practically yelled in her ear, and she laughed.

"Yes, yes I'm home. Now, do you want to help me with these bags or am I going to have to carry them all in myself?"

I bombarded her with questions as we lugged in half of her wardrobe and cases of new art she needed to drop off at the gallery still. How was Italy? Was it hot there? Were the men hot? Is wine really better in Europe? Did the flight go okay? The answers to which were amazing, hot, also not too shabby, just the same unless you were pretentious, and crying baby. After fifteen minutes she put a stop to it, and asked the one question I had been dreading.

"How are you, Marley? I've hardly heard any news since I left."

And you see the difficulty with this question was that I genuinely didn't have an answer to it. Or rather, I did, but I sure as hell didn't want to welcome Joyce home with a cheery _hey, I'm failing school beyond expectations and the government wants to euthanize me._ So while I stammered my way through an existential crisis of a simple question, I tried to find a way to divert the subject. What could I talk about that didn't involve everything bad that had happened?

"I've been spending a lot of time over on campus with Buffy recently." Lie, "And I'm really liking it, I'm pretty sure I want to apply there for next year." Not quite a lie, but based off my grades it was a pretty strong untruth.

Joyce smiled, and shook her head a little as we pulled the last of her bags into the foyer, "Well that's not news. You've wanted to go there since Buffy got in."

Alright...new diversion…

Luckily, Joyce thought one up for me, "What about boys, anyone new in your life?" My thoughts immediately jumped to Spike, and I tried to figure out how I was going to explain that one. Cause to be quite frank, I didn't have a fucking clue how to explain to myself why my heart kept performing Irish line dances every time I saw him. Much less to Joyce.

Like most things, I simply decided not to and said, "Oh you know, a couple dates but nothing that would work out." I started to grab the bags to bring them upstairs, but Joyce waved me off and lead us into the sitting room. We sat down on the couch, and I tried to enjoy the familiarity instead of panicking about how many half-truths I was going to have to work around tonight.

"Anyone in particular?" She pressed.

"There was this one guy named Dylan," I said, truthfully, "He was sweet, but he was kind of an idiot...not really cut out for the Scooby lifestyle." She laughed at that.

"And school?"

"Fantastic," I said as my pants caught on fire. If anyone out there was keeping a moral count on me I'm pretty sure that that one just put me a little closer to a less-than-fun hell dimension. Perhaps one with real flaming pants. You would think I would have stopped there, but my ass just had to add, "I've had so much time since Buffy's been up at school, less slayage more studying."

I hoped she didn't hear the panicked undertone in my giggle.

"Speaking of Buffy," Joyce said, looking about as if a bit disappointed, "where has she gotten off to? She said she would be home."

"Patrol I think, she must have gotten caught up with something," I reassured her, kind of hoping it was a real evil something and not Riley's lips, "She should be home soon."

"Well then," Joyce said, standing up, "Why don't the two of us do something fun? She can join us if she shows up."

"Chick-flick and junk food?" I asked hopefully, and she nodded. With a happy squeal I ran upstairs to pick out the VHS of the night. So far, I'd dodged the bullet. Wasn't sure how long that would last.

* * *

We were most of the way through _Say Anything_ , and John Cusack was standing outside his girlfriend's house with the radio. Joyce and I were curled up on the couch, covered in blankets, and munching on boxed cookies. I only half knew what was happening, I hadn't seen this movie in years and we'd spent most of the last hour giggling. It was nice having someone to share the house with, someone who wasn't Spike. Spike was too complicated.

"So, tell me about Buffy's new boyfriend," Joyce said, dipping her cookie into a glass of milk, "Since she isn't here to do it herself."

"Well, his name is Riley," I started, trying to decide how to best explain him without getting into the nasty secret-government-agency bits. "He's tall, handsome in the corn-raised kinda way. Real athletic -"

"So a jock?" Joyce asked.

"Kinda, I don't think he plays any team sports…." Well, at least none of the normal ones, group-demon hunting wasn't going to be in the Olympics anytime soon, "But he lifts or something."

"Is he nice?"

"Oh yeah, he's great. Real chivalrous," I said, pretending like I'd had more than four interactions with him.

"Well that sounds -" Joyce started, and was cut off as the front door burst open. My first thought was that Buffy had run into trouble on patrol and had rushed home, concerned we both jumped to our feet.

Then I heard that British accent, "Bird!" He yelled, "Marley, I -" he cursed as there was a crash from the foyer. With a thud Spike tumbled to the floor, suitcases sprawled around him. Oh, yeah, we'd forgotten to take those up. Something particularly insulting was on his lips when he looked up and his eyes fell on Joyce, "Ah, Joyce, lovely to see you again. How was Italy?"

I rolled my eyes, he'd always been so polite with her.

"Oh, well it's nice to see you too," Joyce said, obviously still a bit confused by his rather brazen entrance.

"What, Spike?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, more bemused than annoyed.

He shrugged, pulling himself back up to his feet, "Dunno," he muttered, almost bashful, "Was bored, thought I'd see what you were up to. Kinda thought you were gonna come around again." His blue eyes met mine, looking far too puppy-dog-ish for a man who'd been a killer before I was born. I'd spent every night at his place for the last week, hadn't I? Had I even told him I wouldn't be there this time?

I blinked, trying to process the fact that Spike...missed me?

His eyes wandered around the room, landing on the movie still playing behind us and the coffee table covered in junk food, "I'll uh, I'll leave you to your ladies night." He started to pick his way around the suitcase maze, when Joyce stopped him.

"I was thinking of making hot-cocoa in a minute," she said, "I think we should have some of the little marshmallows left if you want to join us."

* * *

Joyce had gone to bed, and it was just me and Spike now. Buffy still hadn't made it back, I'd be worried about her if I trusted her less. I was too sleepy right now to worry about much other than how I was going to manage to get up the stairs. Huddled in my blankets like a small, demonic burrito I'd curled into a ball on the couch. Spike was next to me, my head against his thigh - my neck actually had a bit of a crick in it, but there was no way in hell I was going to use him as a pillow. I'd already dug my grave deep enough on this one. I'd spent the last week trying to hide my tripped out heart beat under the cardio.

I was pretty sure I was just going to give up and go to sleep here and now when cool fingers brushed the nape of my neck. I suppressed a shiver.

"Bird. You're awake still."

"I was trying to fix that," I grumbled, shifting deeper into my blankets. He didn't move his hand, thumb trailing behind my earlobe. Everything was on fire, and I think my heart may have simply stopped beating. He had to know what he was doing by this point, manipulative bastard.

"I'm bored," he said.

"What am I supposed to do about that?" I asked, not looking up at him.

"Let's go outside," he said suddenly, hand leaving my neck as he jumped up. I dragged myself into a sitting position and glared.

"Do you know how cold it is outside?" I asked. He just shrugged. Right, he was the guy who wore a coat just for the aesthetic. "It's December, Spike, it's cold."

"I'll warm you up," he said with a cheeky smirk, and it took me a moment to pull my head out of the gutter, "Gotta keep you in shape for the nasties, love."

I stretched, muscles still tight from the last week, "You're just looking for a willing punching bag."

He shrugged, "Maybe, but you need it."

I looked at the clock, it was two in the morning. I had school tomorrow, and I should really stop skipping. He kept looking at me all expectant though. Sore and tired as I was, I struggled to my feet. Cursing him the whole while, I pulled on a jacket and stumbled out into the backyard with him swaggering confidently behind me. Trying to promise myself that I would still get out of bed for class in the morning, I turned to face him. He looked half translucent in the moonlight, sharp shadows cutting down across his cheekbones.

"Alright," he said, slowly starting to pace a circle around me, "Remember what we did last night?

"Remember when you punched me in the face last night?" I was lucky it hadn't bruised. It hadn't exactly been a love tap.

"Yeah, cause you don't keep your bloody guard up," he said, coming around behind me. His footsteps stopped, and I blinked. What was he - suddenly he was on me, and I let out a muffled curse. One arm wrapped around my waist as he held me close to his body. His fingers were twined in my hair, pulling against my scalp as he exposed my neck.

"What does this have to do with last night?" I growled, grabbing him by the wrist and trying to pull his hands out of my hair. All I succeeded at was yanking at my poor, abused scalp.

"Absolutely nothing, I'm just trying to keep you on your feet." Have I ever mentioned how annoying he was? "Alright, love, what do you do now?" I struggled against him a bit, but that was like trying to struggle against a rock. I could practically feel him roll his eyes, "You were dead two minutes ago."

I closed my eyes, trying to remember what he'd said about weak points. I wasn't exactly at a good angle to get him in the balls. So, I twisted about and dug my fingers as hard as I could into the elbow of the arm that held me against him. He yelped, though I was pretty sure it was half fake, and dropped me. Problem was he still had my hair, and next thing I knew he was pulling me down to the ground.

Properly pinned, I glared up at him looking all pleased with himself. He was heavy on top of me, one hand still in my hair to keep my throat open, the other pinning my arm to the dirt. He winked, and I spat in his face.

His growl wasn't fake this time, "Oh, bloody hell! That was fucking dirty, Bird!" His face twisted up and his eyes were closed, grip just a little bit looser. Taking the opportunity I'd been given, I brought my knee up hard - missed his sensitive bits, but caught him squarely on the hip. His legs gave out and his full weight came down on top of me. I grunted. He cursed as I scrambled out from underneath him.

That was kind of satisfying. It was rare that I ever got the upperhand without him giving it to me.

Didn't last long though, he was faster than I was. I hadn't even gotten to my feet yet and he was there, boot catching me in the ribs. The breath when out of me as I collapsed to the ground, and rolled - just missing his grab for the collar of my jacket. He actually looked a bit pissed and my heart froze, sometimes it was too easy to forget that he had a temper...that he could be dangerous.

I leapt to my feet, jumping back to put some distance between us.

He stalked forward, fist clenched. I ducked the first swing, and I knew I couldn't run from him so I ran at him. Slamming head first into his belly I took both of us to the ground, and scrambled to straddle his waist. My first punch caught him straight across the cheek, the second he caught in his own fist and he whipped me over his head. I groaned as my shoulder wrenched and I tumbled to the grass.

Rough hands flipped me onto my back, and he pinned me down again, "Now what are you going to do, Bird?" He asked. He still sounded serious, but whatever temper had been sparked had mostly faded out of his eyes now.

Exhausted, thoroughly beat, and shoulder throbbing I was no longer in the mood, "Just fucking eat me already, would you?"

He sat back a bit, head cocking to the side, "You alright?"

"No!" I snapped, "That hurt!" I sat up pushing his chest halfheartedly as I tried to get out from underneath him.

"Someone who really wants to hurt you's gonna do a lot worse than that, love," he said, gently placing a hand on either shoulder.

"Oh fuck off," I muttered, "You did that on purpose, your pride was all insulted cause I got the upperhand there for a moment."

"Oh, what? You think any other vamp would've given you the honor of a couple extra minutes to play whack-a-mole with their face?" He stood, offering me a hand which I reluctantly took, "Keep your guard up, and next time I won't get you."

"You never teach me how to do that!" I said, exasperated, "You just hit me and I have to hope I know when it's coming."

He nodded, going back towards the house, "Yeah, that's how it works. Could teach you every block I know, and wouldn't do you a damn bit of good if you don't learn to anticipate the hit before it comes." I hadn't followed, glaring at him as he mounted the stairs to the back porch. He looked back, and rolled his eyes, "Oh come on, get your panties out of a bunch."

"Whatever," I grumbled, too grumpy for his wax-poetical on the finer points of teaching someone how to get beat half to death. I followed him up onto the porch, and passed right by, limping ever so slightly.

"You need help getting up to bed?" He asked He had this puppy doggish concern that didn't match the cold light that had accompanied the boot in my ribs a few minutes before.

"No," I grumbled, "Goodnight, Spike."

I could've sworn I heard him grumble _women_ as I shut the door.

* * *

It took every drop of will left in my body to roll out of bed with my six AM alarm, and drag my sore ass down the stairs. Had school always been this early? My shoulder was still aching from where Spike had twisted it, and I was still kind of pissed at him for doing it. Or not exactly for doing it, but for...I don't know, I was just grumpy at everything today. Still, there had been something unsettling about how quickly he'd flipped between charming and brutal. Shouldn't expect too much more out of demon.

Sometimes I wondered what I would've been like if I hadn't been raised by humans. If I had something a little crueler inside of me like Spike did.

Shuffling into the kitchen I passed Joyce, and opened the fridge. Did we still have milk?

"Marley?" I was too tired to notice the harshness in her voice, and I kept rooting through the fridge, "Marley do you want to explain this?"

I grabbed a hunk of cheese, and took a bite, "Explain what?" I muttered through a full mouth. I turned around to see that big, red URGENT staring back at me. The envelope was open, and my fate had been sealed.

* * *

I didn't have a good explanation for myself, not one I could give to my perfectly normal human principle. It wasn't one I could give to Joyce either, Buffy had made it through high school just fine while slaying every night. So, I sat there and took every admonishment, lecture, and general disparaging remark to my character that the man could throw at me. Could've been worse, he wasn't Snyder. I kind of deserved it.

"I hate to sound...negative," Mr. Daniels said, leafing through a few papers. I glanced at Joyce, who looked even more stressed than I felt...which was remarkable, "but Ms. Kestler, I'm going to be impressed if you can turn this around. To be quite frank, if your grades keep going like this you'll have a one point seven GPA for the year."

"How…" Joyce started, "What would it take to fix this?"

Mr. Daniels, a rather rotund, balding man in his fifties, pushed his spectecles a bit higher on his nose. He took a deep breath, frowning. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what he had to say.

"If she can pull her grades up, get a three point six for the year and comes to saturday school for the first month after break...then she may be able to avoid summer school. If things don't improve drastically, however, I'm afraid you may have to wait an extra year to graduate."

I was going to have to repeat senior year? Another year in sunny hell and I hadn't even finished this one. I...I couldn't do that. No, no more of this bullshit. No more being alone in a trailer park, no more feeling like all of my friends were half a world away. It wasn't worth it. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the headache I'd been developing since last night, but I was done with this.

"No," I said, standing up.

"Marley!" Joyce, looked up at me, astonished.

"No, I can't do this. I'm...I'm dropping."

"Ms. Kestler, now I wouldn't stoop to dramatics -" Mr. Daniels started, but I didn't hear the end of the sentence. I was already out the door.

* * *

"Xander!" I yelled, banging on his door, "Xander!"

A very sleep eyed Anya answered, "Marley, do you even know what hour it is?"

Pausing a moment to digest that comment, I looked at the setting sun, "An, it's like six."

"Who's awake at six?"

"Six _PM_ , Anya. Now where's Xander?" I grumbled, pushing past her into the basement. I just did my best not to think about what they'd been doing in there as I walked over to the bed, and jabbed at Xander's side.

"Mmmm, babe," he groaned, rolling over with a smile on his lips. I made a noise of digust and he screamed, dragging a pillow over his bare chest. "Marley! What - I - what are you doing here?"

"I need a job."

He blinked a few times, but not questioning it he offered some rather bewildered advice, "Do you have a resume?" Shit, I forgot about those things. I obviously hadn't thought this out very well. I didn't exactly have any job experience, other than red-cross certified baby sitter...but even then I was pretty sure that was expired.

"Can you help me make a resume?"

Groaning, Xander sat up, "Alright, Marl, let's take this one step at a time. What the fuck is happening?"

* * *

I frowned, looking at the mostly blank page in front of me. I had my name, and my address, and my phone number...and that was it. It was like looking at a quiz you hadn't studied for...except the quiz was my life. I'd made a terrible mistake hadn't I? I looked up at Xander, a plea for help in my eyes and he sighed.

"Why don't we start with practical skills...do you know how to use Word?"

"Yes...I...do…" I said, typing out Microsoft Word Proficient, "Alright, what else do I know how to do?"

"Make bloody horrible decisions," a british accent glowered, and I looked up. Giles was leaning over our little cubicle in the public library computer lab. Ah yes, the wrath of the librarian.

"Positive as always, Giles," I said, and started contemplating if I'd done enough demonolgy work in that library of his to put research assistant on my resume.

He took a deep breath, "Buffy called me, Joyce is at wits end, and apparently you've decided to drop your whole life and become a...a...what are you even going to do?"

I looked at my mostly blank resume and pursed my lips, "I haven't figured it out yet."

"Exactly my point," he growled, and then looked at Xander, "And what are you doing? Are you helping her?" Xander shrugged and the older man shook his head, grabbing me by the arm and dragging me out of the cubicle. "You are making a terrible mistake Marley, I don't know what's gotten into you lately." Despite the boiling rage under the surface he kept his voice down to a hushed whisper, the librarian was still strong within him.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked, voice raising as he pulled me out onto the sidewalk, "Are you going to homeschool me while I hide from Buffy's new boyfriend? I've been staked out in your apartment or Spike's crypt more often than I've been in class!"

"Well I don't understand why that means you have to quit!" Giles let go of me, cleaning his glasses in frustration.

"Because...because I was going to fail out anyways, so why not quit while I'm just drowning instead of dead." I mumbled that last part, glaring down at the sidewalk.

"Because by that reasoning either way you still end up dead, you don't stop drowning by giving up."

He had a point. "Yes, but at least this way I have my pride." I stuck my chin out stubbornly, lips thin.

"Marley…"

I didn't want to deal with this right now, "Giles, can we just talk about this later?"

"Promise me you'll at least...consider...that you're being utterly stupid?" He asked, looking me dead in the eye. I took a deep, reluctant breath...but I did have to admit that based off my current resume I wasn't exactly showing much promise in the working world. I sure as hell wasn't going to admit that now.

"I'll think about it, alright?" He nodded, and I started walking, "I'm gonna go home...try to patch things up with Joyce."

Pulling my hood up I huddled deeper into my jacket, it was chilly and I wasn't looking forward to the long walk of existential dread and shame. Deciding to make it a bit shorter I cut into the woods, planning to jump the creek and skip the long round about through town to make it home. I didn't know what I was going to say to Joyce, or to Buffy who had to be home by nowl. There was going to be yelling, and someone was going to cry and it would probably be me, and -

I paused. I could have sworn I heard something crack.

Brushing it off as a wayward stick under foot and my heebie-jeebies about walking through the woods at dark, I kept going. I could hear the distinct tinkling of the creek up ahead, the dark woods dropping off into the even darker gulley down to the water. Over the creek, five more minutes of walking in the cold, and then I could jump into the frying pan I had heated up for myself.

Something cracked again. Dead twigs rustled to my right, and then I heard it, "Hostile Twenty-Eight, location confirmed. Move out."

I swallowed hard, frozen to the spot. I was in it alone this time. I didn't have Spike, I didn't have the Scoobies...I didn't have Buffy leashing up her commando. Light flared from a stun gun and I ducked, rolling to the ground. I hissed, arm striking hard against a rock.

"Eyes open, boys!" Someone yelled from the darkness a few feet away, boots tramping past me, "This thing's dangerous!"

My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, and I was struggling to keep my head clear. I was surrounded, and maybe I was under the radar for a second but that wasn't going to last. I had to make a break for it if I wanted to keep my kidneys...to hell with my kidneys, I was skipping straight to a humane death supposing someone didn't electrocute me here first.

Alright, Marley...here's nothing.

I scrambled to my feet, the aggressive shouts around me bleeding together as more stun guns went off. My feet flew over the forest floor, a panicked shriek escaping my lips as I narrowly slipped through the space between an elm and a blast of electricity. I started to duck around the next looming shilloutte of a tree when a limb flew out and caught me, and I realized it wasn't a tree.

I went for the elbows, just like Spike had taught me, bending his arm back hard enough to earn a groan. His other arm was still free though, and a well aimed fist caught me across the cheek. Blood flooded my mouth...so that's what Spike meant about keeping my guard up. The fist came again and I lost my grip. The next strike was to the gut and I doubled over, all that blood spilling out over my chin.

Here's another thing Spike was right about, when someone really wanted to hurt me they were going to do a lot worse than bruise my ribs.

The commando had let me get just far enough out of his grip. I turned to bolt again, making it two steps before he dived and a hand wrapped around my ankle. I went down. The fall was hard, and my bad shoulder jarred as I hit the ground. Hands started to crawl from my ankles to my calves as the commando tried to drag me in.

I lashed out, boot striking his nose with a crunch.

I was on my feet again, and a few seconds later all the nerves in my body started screaming. The blast of electricity hadn't hit me dead on, but a clip was good enough to hurt like a bitch. I stumbled, trying to remember how to breath...the darkness was starting to be tinged with gold. The commandos were yelling, and the footsteps were getting closer, and underneath all of the comotion I could hear the distinct singing of water over stones.

Shit. The creek.

The thing about the creek is that at some points the ravine it ran through was about three feet deep...in others it was fifteen. Here it was the latter. The gorge opened up dark and foreboding before me. Fuck.

"Hostile Twenty-Eight is cornered, repeat we have Hostile Twenty-Eight!" Someone yelled, too close for comfort.

I wasn't Buffy, the creek was too wide to jump here. My throat was closing, the panic was setting in, and I could feel the light building up inside me as the fight or flight instinct kicked in. The commandos were blurry now, a bunch of black shilloutes in a field of gold light that filled my eyes. The words _critical condition_ wandered back into my mind.

"Please," I backed up, hands out, "Please, I don't want -"

"Get down!" One of them yelled, brandishing his gun. I took another step back, heel sinking into the crumbling dirt at the edge of the ravine. I didn't have anywhere else to go, I was going to fall. "Get down!"

"I don't want to hurt -"

One of them lunged, and I couldn't stop it anymore. It spread through me like fire, bursting out in an all encompassing rush of light. I stopped breathing for a moment, stopped feeling. Then just like that it was over, and I was left blind as I waited to readjust to darkness. It was quiet now, and I tried not to sob as the smell of burnt flesh hit my nose. Oh god, what had I done?

Sight came back slowly, and when it did I made eye contact with the last man left standing. All the others had dropped, sprawled across the forest floor. One of them twitched. The soldier turned and ran.

Humans weren't like vampires, they didn't conviently turn into piles of dust. They left bodies that felt far too real. Swallowing hard, trying not to let the burnt smell make me sick, I knelt next to the closest man. He was breathing still, a web of burn marks tracing across his face and clothes turned a crisp black. They should live if soldier boy brought help…I knew if I wanted to keep my skin I couldn't do a damn thing for them.

I started running. It was a long time before I stopped.

* * *

I could hardly breath by the time I made it to the porch, doubling over the rail as I tried to regain some semblance of composure. I knew I was covered in my own blood, that'd be hellish enough without acting like I had the devil himself on my heels. The rough wood dug against my cheek, and I tried to keep my face straight. I'd never hurt people before. Not when I'd been awake.

Vampires didn't smell when they got lit up.

Sucking in a deep breath and swallowing the iron lump in my throat, I stood. What the hell was I going to tell Buffy?

I slipped through the door quietly, half hoping I could disappear. Then I heard him. Riley.

"Buffy, you don't understand. She's not what you think she is."

"I know exactly what she is, Riley. She's a good person, and she's probably scared out of her mind!"

"Those men could have died!" Something slammed. They were in the kitchen, and they obviously hadn't noticed me come through the door.

"They were going to kill _her_! Did that ever occur to you? Or is she just a euthanasia date to you?"

It was quiet for a moment, "She's dangerous, Buffy. With Walsh gone...those are my men and I have to look out for them. I can't let her -"

I didn't wait to here the rest of the conversation, instead I slipped up the stairs as quietly as I could and tiptoed to my room. I grabbed whatever clothes I found first and shoved them in a bag, my stuffed pony harold, a sleeping bag and my toothbrush. The muffled tones of their argument were still carrying up the stairs, I had a couple more minutes. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, scribbling out a note. Nothing fancy, just enough that she wouldn't worry I'd died in a ditch somewhere. _Buffy, I can't stay, you know why. I love you._ I took one last glance around my room, siddled the window open and slipped out onto the roof.

It wasn't safe for me to be here anymore.

* * *

I looked like a mess when I wandered into Spike's crypt, bag slung over my shoulder. My eyes were red from crying half the way there, and my chin and neck were red from the blood, and my shirt was stained with it too. I didn't want to burden anyone else with where I was going, didn't want to say goodbye either. Spike though, I needed him.

"Hello?" I called, voice half cracking. It looked empty. Doing everything I could to keep my composure, I dragged myself over to his couch. He'd be back soon...I...what the hell was I doing? This was my home, was I -

"Bird?" Spike was half out of the trap door down to the lower level, he frowned when he saw me, "Bloody hell, Marley." He was at my side in seconds, thumb brushing over the dried blood on my chin as he surveyed the damage. My lip felt pretty swolen, and I knew there was a cut on my cheek. "What happened, love?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words didn't come out. I couldn't, not yet. "Spike?"

"What, Bird?"

"Spike can we leave?"

Blue eyes met mine, and without a moments hesitancy he nodded, "Where to?"

 **Well that was chapter ten. I hoped y'all enjoyed, and I would love it you left a review. Next chapter's obviously gonna have a shit ton of Spike, so I guess there's that to look forward to.**

 **See you soon!**


	11. The Right People

**Thank you to Lacey Solane, Laurafxox,** **kayleeeejames, and caroline** **for the reviews! I hope y'all like this one, there'll be a lot of Spike in it. In fact a good 80% of it is just Marley and Spike. This chapter's going to take place over the course of everything between This Year's Girl and the beginning of New Moon Rising. It isn't actually going to cover any of that - but uh, that's everything we're skipping.**

 **This chapter is going to start introducing some of the larger plot that's actually going to revolve around Marley, so let me know what you think.**

 **Well, I really hope you'll like it and you'll review! I love feedback, constructive or otherwise.**

 **Chapter Eleven - The Right People**

 _Day One_

This shithole smelled like mildew and piss, a mess of dead conveyor belts and twenty years of garbage. The desk in the back office was covered in magazines from nineteen-eighty-three. The rotting pages were piled around an old rotary phone with a frayed cord, a typewriter, and a coffee mug that still had something suspiciously black in it. It was all topped off with a sprinkling of rat poop. I frowned, that couldn't be healthy. Papers rustled about my feet as I dropped my stuff in the back corner. Spike had told me to wait here while he checked out the rest of the abandoned factory that we'd found somewhere a dingy South L.A neighborhood.

What morning light there was filtered through one grimy window that looked out on a back alley, considering my new roommate that was technically a plus. There was a door for a quick escape if we needed it...though I didn't know what we'd be escaping from, I'd left all my problems back in Sunnydale.

The initiative wanted me dead, but I wasn't exactly priority numero uno. The school system wasn't in the habit of hunting down drop outs either.

Somewhere behind me, from the warehouse floor, a man's shriek echoed eerily in the open space. Spike's harsh laugh came next. Frowning, I shut the door quietly as I could, and turned to look at my new home again.

My new home. I took a deep breath. I hadn't felt this lonely in a long time, not since before the Summers took me in - my whole chest felt hollow, opening a gap between my stomach and my heart. I ignored a fresh bout of screaming from the factory, and went to open the office's back door to let in some fresh air.

I wrinkled my nose. The fresh air smelled like three day old garbage.

The paper littering the floor was thrown out first, then came the magazines on the desk. A spare piece of the obituaries from nineteen-eighty was used as a duster. The broom I found in the back closet was covered in cobwebs, but it did the job - pretty soon we wouldn't even have to sleep in rat poop. Spiderwebs were knocked down, I only squeaked once when one fell on my arm. The sleeping bag was rolled out in a particularly clean looking corner, and Harold placed on top of it.

"This'll be okay, won't it, buddy?" I asked, patting the pony's head. Great, I was talking to stuffed animals now.

A gunshot rang out somewhere beyond the back alley. Spike had obviously picked out a nice neighborhood for us. I vaguely wondered how the school system was, and decided to shut the door before whoever had that gun wandered this way. I yawned, we had been driving all night to get here and despite every time Spike had told me to 'take a kip' I hadn't been able to shut my eyes. Maybe I'd try now.

The door to factory floor creaked open, Spike scoffed, "You brought a sleeping bag?"

"Where were you planning on sleeping?"

"The floor," he said, jumping up to sit on the desk. I rolled my eyes, vampires all had this macho-grunge complex that made them incapable of admitting that it's nice to be comfortable sometimes. I sat on what was now my bed, leaning up against the wall and placing Harold on my lap. Spike eyed the pony, and I felt him itching to comment but he held his tongue. "A few bums were laid up in here, gone now."

Ah yes, that had been the screaming. "How?" I asked, he couldn't exactly rough them up if they weren't bums of the hellish variety.

His face flashed between the demon and the human. Yeah that would do it.

"So, Bird," he started, looking down at me, "Why the split?" I hadn't told him yet, he hadn't asked. The scent of burning skin was still strong in my mind, and I couldn't help but feel a little nauseous.

"I don't want to talk about it."

He shrugged, "Alright. Not like I mind, anything to get away from Miss High and Slayer-y."

It was quiet for a moment, "Why'd you tell Buffy she should come apologize to me?" I asked.

He blinked, surprise registering on his face for a moment. Must not of thought Buffy would have admitted it was him. His face quickly twisted into a manly scowl, "Self preservation. Every damn time she forgot about you I got shafted up the ass as collateral."

I nodded, eyes filling with tears as I yawned.

"Sleep, Bird," he said.

"I'm...I'm...I'm fine," I managed to get out around a second yawn. I didn't want to sleep yet. My stomach growled, "I am kinda hungry though."

"You fancy going out on your own?" He asked, nodding towards the light spilling through the window. I remembered the gunshot and shook my head. "Then get some sleep, love, I'll find us something when it's dark."

* * *

 _Day Five_

My eyes drifted open sometime around sundown, and despite the dull ache in my back that came from sleeping on the floor for a week I felt rested. Sure, I was practically nocturnal at this point, but I also was getting twelve hours or more a night...or day. I groaned, stretching, my bare feet brushed against Spike's boots. For all the shit he'd given me about bringing a sleeping bag, the rat poop had been enough of a deterrent from the bare floor. So, my bag had been folded out, and his duster had been draped over me so I wouldn't freeze in the December air.

Huddling into the leather I looked over at him. He slept on his back, and if I didn't know better I'd think he was deader than he was. He stopped breathing when he was sleeping, so still he could have been carved out of marble...and then dressed in a ridiculous amount of black. The only hint that he wasn't just a corpse were his eyes darting back and forth beneath his lids. He must have been dreaming.

"Spike," I whispered. He didn't stir.

Groaning, I sat up and pulled on my beat-up tennis shoes. The gray cloth still had blood splatters across it from my night in the woods, I'd done most of the bleeding so at least I knew it was mine. I brushed my teeth with bottled water and no toothpaste, and pulled my hair up into a bun. I was going to have to ask Spike about finding the money to check into a motel that had a shower, Vampires might not sweat but whatever the fuck I was did.

My stomach growled.

"Spike," I whispered again. Nothing.

I'd been here almost a week now, wandering through dark alleys and all the places humans only treaded if they were extraordinarily brave. That had always been with Spike at my side, but I was hungry and didn't feel like waking him. Nor did I want to spend the next weeks or months or however long we would be in L.A. growing an umbilical cord to a vampire.

I'd be just fine on my own.

I grabbed his duster from the floor and pulled it on, it fell long on me, practically dragging on the ground. I shrugged, it was cold out and all the money we had was in his coat pockets so it seemed practical. He could come find me when he woke up.

I could smell him on the leather - spicy and smoky with a tang of iron - as I slipped out into the chilly dusk, blinking as I adjusted to the orange light of streetlamps. I could hear yelling in the street to my left, frowning I headed the other way and started to wind through the back alleys. Double checking the pockets for the wad of bills I was pretty sure he had stolen, I came to the end of a blind alley.

This was the way he'd taken me last time wasn't it?

Dragging a crate over to the dumpster, and trying to not be ashamed at how much effort it took me, I clambered on top. From the dumpster I managed to jump to the wall, boobs getting squashed as I hung from the top - kicking for purchase. Despite the cool factor boost I'd gotten from Spike's jacket, I was still almost entirely hopeless. With a grunt I managed to kick against the bricks and drag myself over the wall...promptly falling off the other side.

I landed on top of another dumpster with a boom that I just hoped no one got curious about. I was by far the least dangerous person in these parts...or the least intentionally dangerous. I took a moment to catch my breath. Not much farther now.

The bar was in the basement of a mom and pop pharmacy that actually sold witchy supplies out of the back. Slipping through the side door and down the stairs I took a deep breath. I could hear laughter and growling from the main room, and for some reason my nerves were fluttering. Maybe I should've waited for Spike to get up. I squared my shoulders, I had to learn to deal with this stuff. I was...I was a demon too, and had every right to use public demon-y spaces. Yeah...that sounded convincing.

I wove in and out of drunk demons who were much bigger, and much smellier, than I was as I tried not to get squashed.

"Sorry," I mumbled, bumping into a Skench demon's chest. The guy screeched out of his giant, round mouth - a bit of blue phlegm spattering out onto Spike's jacket. Gross. I wiped the goo off quickly so that Spike wouldn't throttle me later, and finally managed to drag myself up to the bar.

"What can I get you?" The bartender was half Horager demon half god knows what. He looked absolutely ridiculous in his hawaiian shirt considering he was essentially a blue crocodile on steroids - to top it off the orange shirt clashed with his scales. I was pretty sure his name was Al, which was short for something I sure as hell couldn't pronounce.

"Could I have those twisty french fries, please?" I half yelled over the din, somewhere behind me someone flipped a table. I decided to ignore it. The fries here were pretty good considering that the guy who made them had tentacles instead of hands, didn't even get slime on them.

"Coming right up, darling," he said, passing a ticket order through the kitchen window. A tentacle grabbed it, quickly receding back into the kitchen. "Anything to drink?"

"Sprite, please." Al chuckled, and I couldn't quite tell if he was amused at my drink choice or my manners. Both were odd considering the company. Regardless, he gave me my sprite and left me to wait for my fries in peace.

I missed Buffy. Sitting very much alone in a crowd of people who were simultaneously too much and too little like me, that became very very apparent. I missed my friends, I missed Giles and Joyce...I missed scoobies and patrols. Hell, I missed being abandoned all alone in my house because at least that was home even if I was lonely. The existential dread was starting to set in when my fries came. At least I could eat away my feelings.

"For you." Al's claws clacked against the hardwood as he set a mixed drink that was a very odd shade of orange in front of me.

"I didn't -"

"From him." Al tipped his snout down towards the end of the bar, "Told me to get you whatever I thought you'd like. It's got mango in it, bit a something else that ain't quite legal, but it'll give you a kick."

I frowned, following his line of sight. The man was watching me, and for some reason my gut turned to ice. His eyes were a solid, glassy black to match his messy mop of hair. Tattoos of the same color carved elegant scroll work across pale skin. He was tall, slender, elegantly poised despite the rugged leather jacket he wore. He could almost pass for human; but the end of his nose was too feline, cheekbones too high, and his fingers ended in slender claws. His lips twitched up into a smirk, but the humor didn't reach those flat, black eyes. He raised his drink.

I kept staring at him like a deer in the headlights and the smile only grew, revealing a sharp set of teeth. I swallowed hard.

"Bird!" Spike broke my line of sight, glowering down at me, "What kind of stunt do you think you're pulling?" I blinked hard, only half listening to him as I tried to look for the man with the black tattoos. He was gone, the end of the bar completely empty. "Taking my bloody jacket," Spike growled, sitting next to me, "What if you bruised the leather?"

I looked down at the mango drink in front of me, reminding myself that that had actually happened.

"Bird!" I snapped out of it, looking back to Spike. He was staring at me like I'd grown another head, "Are you deaf?"

"No," I said, absentmindedly taking another fry, "Sorry."

His annoyance faded into concern, head cocking to the side, "Love, are you quite alright? Look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine, Spike," I said, perhaps a bit too brusquely, and went back to eating, "Just not all the way awake yet."

He rolled his eyes, "Just mind the ketchup while you've got the coat, yeah? Gonna get myself something to drink." I pushed the mango mystery margarita towards him, probably wasn't going to poison him. "Where'd you get that?"

I shrugged, "Some guy, I don't really want it."

He scoffed, "Like you think I'm drinking your fruity leftovers." He waved down Al, ordering himself a bourbon. I half heartedly bit into another fry, trying to shake off the feeling of cold black eyes. The guy gave me the creeps. I suddenly found myself wishing I had Buffy or Giles...the scoobies…

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Bird?"

"Spike, are we friends?"

He turned to look at me, brow furrowed, "You really are in an odd mood, aren't you?"

"Spike," I repeated, and he realized I was being serious.

"Yeah...yeah, Bird. We're friends." His eyes wandered over my face for a moment, finally coming back to meet mine. I held his gaze, and black eyes and commandos and dropouts all started to fade away. I could make it through this as long as I had him.

He smiled softly, and then a light flashing in his eye he grabbed for one of my fries.

"Hey!" I started to protest, but it quickly turned into a cackle as he splattered ketchup all over me. And by me, I mean his duster.

"Bloody -"

* * *

 _Day Ten_

Hell. I felt like hell. I felt like hell had chewed me up, spat me back out, and then ground my remains into the hot dogs that I would eventually eat so that they could betray me. I groaned, feeling the nausea rising in my throat. No, please, not again. I dragged myself to my feet, half stumbling across our little office to the bucket Spike had left for me. I fell to my knees in front of it just as the tide rose.

I hated throwing up, hated it. This was the eighth time in as many hours, and I was ready to go back to Sunnydale and take the Initiative up on that euthanasia appointment. I had to count my blessings. It could be coming out the other end too.

Retching out the last of it, I clutched the cool bucket and tried not to cry. This wasn't fair.

"Bird?" Spike's voice came from the door. I didn't look up. I was pretty sure there was vomit in my hair and on my face, and he really didn't need to see that. I reached for the paper towels, making a feeble attempt to clean myself.

He didn't say anything as he knelt, but his nose wrinkled at the pool of sick in my bucket. The plastic bag rustled, and he handed me a bottle of mouthwash which I took gratefully, "Better be bloody thankful," he grumbled, "Risked dusting my ass in the sun for this shit."

Gargling my minty salvation, I looked over at him hoping the thank you reached my eyes - I was too tired to deal with the wordy gratitude. I spit into the bucket, still breathing hard from the minute of gross. He pulled a jug of water out of the bag, pushing it towards me and muttering something about humans needing to stay hydrated.

"Not human," I said, taking the water regardless.

"Right, lesser species need to stay hydrated." He smirked, waiting for me to roll my eyes or laugh or something. I just gave him a dead eyed stare while taking little sips. "Anyways...got uh, some of that soup with the noodles and the chicken and all that shit. The salt crackers, ginger ale."

"Thank you," I said, reaching for the hot styrofoam cup of soup. No spoon, so I just sipped at the broth.

"It's uh…" He almost seemed to accept it, but then his mouth twisted a bit and he said, "Just didn't want to listen to you yakking all day is all…"

I gave him a half smile, "It's your fault anyway, you bought the hot dogs."

He was about to snipe back when I set down the soup suddenly. Oh no. Scrambling towards the bucket I heaved, a fresh wave of tears springing - very much involuntarily - to my eyes. Spike mumbled something about how he was going to get blamed for this too, but suddenly his cool hands were running through my hair as he pulled it back from my face.

"Easy, Bird." I heaved again, and his other hand gingerly patted my back. I retched a third time and he made a noise of exasperation, settling into a sitting position...he didn't leave though.

"You're fault," I half gasped, spitting.

"Yeah, Bird, yeah...my fault."

* * *

 _Day Twelve_

I dodged lightly, sidestepping his fist as it whistled past. I didn't have time to retaliate, a spinning kick caught me hard in the ribs and I tumbled off the conveyor belt. Spike, supposedly for the sanctity of my martial education, but more likely to cure his own boredom, had gotten me back on my feet and back into sparring faster than I would have liked. But maybe that was just because I had enjoyed the brief reprieve from getting pummeled at least once a day.

Spitting out the dust that had made it into my mouth, I pulled myself up before the next punch came. I threw up a fist to block this one, following it with a right hook of my own that popped him straight in the nose. It didn't help as much as one would have hoped, actually it did a lot more harm than good. Before I could pull my fist back he grabbed my wrist, dragging me in and wrapping an arm around my waist.

It was seconds before with a growl his face shifted, and fangs lightly pressed against my throat. God damn it, not again.

"Dead," he whispered, cool breath tickling my skin.

"I think I should accept my fate at this point," I said, throwing up my hands as he released me, "I'm going to get murdered brutally. I'm sure as hell not good at this….and you've seen me trying to run...I got kicked off the track team for a reason."

"Could've tried for cross country after all our goose chases with the soldier boys," he said nonchalantly, sitting down on the conveyor belt. We had taken to using the main factory floor as our sparring room - lots of interesting things to jump over...or in my case get thrown against. I glared and sat next to him, shoulders brushing together. He pulled out a cigarette, and we stayed there in a silence for a while.

I tried to remember when I'd gotten this comfortable around him.

"Wanna do something fun?" He asked.

"What?"

"C'mon." He jumped up, offering me his hand. I took it, and couldn't help but watch him with a furrowed brow as he lead me out into the alley and down the street. He didn't let go of my hand till we were practically at the bar. Only dropping it as Al, coming off of his shift, turned the corner and waved at us.

"Evening Spike, Marley." The crocodilian demon gave his best impression of a smile, which I returned.

"Have a good night, Al," I called after him. Then, looking to Spike, I asked, "So what are we doing exactly?"

* * *

He had to be crazy, or sadistic, or evil...oh right, yeah he was all three of those. Or at least pick two. He thought this was fun?

"Kitten Poker?" I hissed, raising my eyebrows. How could this be okay? They were kittens, and cute, and small, and innocent. I glanced back at the little round table in the bar's backroom, I recognized a few of the demons who were regulars here. They were nice as far as demons go, but sometimes I forgot the nitty gritty details about our kind. Like thinking kittens are a snack.

"Yeah," he said, defensively, "Little blighters are delicious!"

"I can't play _Kitten_ Poker," I said, putting extra emphasis on the little balls of cuteness who didn't deserve their fates.

He shrugged, "Whatever, I'm gonna play though," he said, pulling two kittens out of his duster. Where the hell had even gotten those? He walked back to the table, taking a seat and setting the little furballs on the table...they blissfully waddled about amongst the demons. One of them begging to be petted.

I was suddenly taken by the conviction that I had to save them.

I sat down next to Spike, and held out a hand, "Give me a kitten, I'm tapping in." He gave me a funny look, but pulled a little calico out of his pocket and gave her to me.

"Guys," Spike said, gesturing to me, "This is Marley. Friend of mine, go easy on her she's new to the whole gambling thing."

They went around the table saying hello and introducing themselves. There was a weirdly...wrinkly...looking demon named Clem. A female Carnyss demon who was rather fashionable, she was named Delaxia but went by Della. There was a bat beast who didn't say a lot, and a few others who were all rather friendly.

"You any good at poker?" Della asked in her husky voice.

Spike didn't let me answer for myself. Scoffing he took my kitten and tossed it on the table with the others, "I'll buy everyone drinks if she wins a damn thing."

I glared, but held my tongue. I'd fucking show him.

Spike kept leaning over as we started the first round, whispering pointers into my ear about who had what tells. Little did he know I'd played poker with Anya, this was a piece of cake compared that ordeal. By the end of the first round Spike was ordering shots for the table. I smiled at him smugly as I pulled my kittens into my lap, and he glowered, stalking off to find the whiskey.

I was half surprised when a shot glass was set in front of me. Everyone else threw theirs back, and I looked up at Spike. He was swallowing his easily, letting out a breath as the bite hit him. His blue eyes twinkled as he glanced down at me.

"What's wrong, Bird? Ever had a drink before?" I shook my head. Buffy hadn't been big on the drinking since Cave-Buffy, and she was kind of the only person I knew who could've given it to me before that. He sat, nudging the glass towards me, "Relax your throat, just let it flow back."

"I've said that to girls before," a spiky demon named Daelan muttered, and my eyes widened...what did a dick even look like on something like that?

Spike raised two fingers, flipping the British bird, but kept his eyes on me expectantly. Was this peer pressure or what? Still, I took the glass and glanced at him one last time before throwing it back. It burned like fire as it touched my throat, and I coughed, only making it worse as the whiskey got into my nostrils. Banging the table I sputtered for air, glaring at Spike as everyone laughed and I turned red.

"A spitter then," Daelan commented, dry as ever.

"Oh fuck off, Daelan," I growled, earning a few laughs and oohs around the table.

"Cheeky, Bird," Spike grinned, "We'll have to work on your technique." He winked, and I rolled my eyes. Just wanting to get on with the game, I threw another kitten on the table.

"She's direct," Della said, "I like her."

* * *

Three hours later I'd had two more shots, and was vaguely starting to wonder if I was a light weight. Proudly I swept more kittens into my lap, I had ten now. One of the poor things tumbled off my leg, I bent down to grab it and two more tumbled after it. Well, wasn't that just frustrating. I leant further and my head spun.

"Doin allright down there, love?" Spike asked, looking through his shit hand. Oh, that was nice I could see his hand from here.

"I'mmmm…..I'm doing...I'm doing great," I said with a smile as I scooped up my little balls of fluff.

"So did you hear about, Anyanka?" One of the other demons asked the table, "Lost her demon powers. Human now."

I giggled, "Pffft," they all looked at me, "Oh that's old news, that happened months ago. She's over it."

The rest of the the night went much like that, demons were surprisingly gossipy creatures. It was like being back in Sunnydale High, just as evil and minus the prepsters. We'd drink, and talk, and I kept on winning kittens. The bat beast kept eyeing my kitten pile, I stuck my tongue out at him. Spike quickly put a hand over my mouth, offering the bat beast an appeasing smile.

"Let's leave that one alone, love," he said half under his breath as my tongue traced circles on his palm, "And stop that!" He yanked his hand back, shaking it while he glared at me. I just smiled.

"Have you seen the new guy that's been hanging around?" Clem asked the table. However, I wasn't really listening, I was watching Spike.

"Did you know...you have really blue eyes?" I asked quietly, getting a look from Daelan.

Clem, however, was still talking with the others, "The quiet one with the tattoos."

Della scoffed, "Oh, him...something off about that guy."

Spike wasn't taking those blue eyes off of me, "You're really are sloshed aren't you?"

"I'm...I'm...great."

"Think he's one of those Wolfram Boys?" Daelan asked, the conversation going on around us.

Clem shook his head, "Nah...they're all suits. This one's weird though...haven't seen one of their kind around in fifty years now."

"War almost over?"

"Guess so…" Clem said, tossing his last kitten on the table.

Spike's hand rose to cup my cheek, and I lazily leaned into it. I was having a bit of trouble keeping my eyes focused on his, he shook his head, "Alright, me and the Bird are gonna have to call it quits," he said, and I made a noise of protest, "Shut it, Marley, get your kittens we're going home. You're plastered."

Della reluctantly handed me a basket for my night's winnings, and the kittens squeaked as I shoved them all in.

"Alright, love," Spike said gently, pulling me up and wrapping an arm around my shoulder, "home we go."

* * *

 _Day Thirteen_

My head was pounding, dear God alcohol couldn't be worth this. Wishing desperately that I had sunglasses, or advil, or anything I sat out on the street with a box of kittens. Safe from becoming demonic snacks I had to do something with them. A car horn honked, I kind of wished the damn thing had hit me instead. Put me out of my misery.

A kid, a little girl of about twelve, was coming down the street with backpack swinging off one shoulder. Ah, yes, my perfect victim.

"Hey, you, little girl!" I called, fully aware of how fitting it would be if I had a white van right now, "Do you like kittens?" He eyes lit up, and I reached into the box to pull out two, "These are yours."

"Thank you!" She beamed, taking her prizes and practically running for home. Finally, those were the last ones. I leaned my head back against the wall, trying to get the energy to stand again. It had been a very difficult morning, and I probably would have slept all day had the excruciating headache not woken me up. At least I hadn't thrown up again...I was done with that for the next twenty years at least.

"Bird!" I heard Spike's voice calling from the alley. Well, I guess that was my cue to get up.

I picked my way back up the stairs into our office. "What, Spike?" I asked, shutting the door behind me.

"Did you happen to move any of our stuff last night? Before we went out?"

I frowned, and shook my head, "Why?"

He pointed off to the corner, "Food's all rearranged...your bag and the pony are up on the desk."

I frowned, but sure enough Harold was smiling up at me from his place next to the old broken rotary phone. My bag was open, sitting next to him. My brow furrowed.

"No, it wasn't me."

"Well, fuck…" Spike said, running a hand through his hair. Nothing seemed to have been taken, and somehow that was even more concerning. He knelt next to our little stock of food, "Bastard bloody color coded it!" He jumped up, looking at me incredulously, "What kinda bloke breaks in to organize your shit for you?"

* * *

 _Day Twenty Four_

"All in," I said, shoving my kittens on the table. I had a royal flush, and Clem was flopping his ears around so I knew that at least he had to have a shit hand. It was worth the risk. As expected Clem quickly folded.

"Brave," a newcomer said, a Chirago demon who had to be at least four-fifty of straight muscle. The man took up three seats worth of space on the table. He also happened to be a cocky, temperamental little bitch and I was going to relish stomping his ego into the dust. My first hand at Kitten Poker may have been luck, but I was getting good - really good. I was going to have to be less good soon if I wanted anyone to keep playing me. Kinda proud of myself.

Spike and I had worked out a pretty good system. I killed at Kitten Poker, selling my winnings at ten dollars a pop, while he made his way up and down the neighborhood bars (demonic or not) and hustled pool. At this rate we may even be able to put up rent for a shitty apartment with indoor plumbing. Every girl's dream. Right now he was off at some Irish bar a couple blocks away, leaving me to my own devices.

"You think so?" I asked, eyeing the pair of tabbies sitting in his lap, "You gonna call it then?" The beady-eyed fucker watched me carefully, and I gave him a beaming smile. "Tell you what, you win the hand and I get shots for the table."

Clem looked at me, shaking his head. I thought he must have been amused, Spike was really starting to rub off on me.

The Chirago demon eyed me for a couple more seconds, but he nodded, "Call."

A few folded, Della called, and we laid our cards out on the table. I'd won easily, and contentedly I reached out to gather my kittens.

"You cheated!" The Chirago growled, "You had to have!" Taking a real good look at him as he rose, a menacing light in his eyes, I started to appreciate how truly huge he was. Huh, I'd made a bit of a mistake hadn't I?

"Well, I didn't," I said, deciding that maybe if I just ignored the five hundred pound Chirago in the room it would go away, and started picking up kittens to put in my basket. The table flipped sideways, kittens scattering with squeaks as they were all knocked to the floor. The Chirago advanced quickly, each footstep falling with an audible thud. It took three and a half steps for him to lift me from my chair and pin me against the wall, feet dangling. Looking down, I became aware that his hand was larger than my rib cage.

Yeah, I'd fucked up.

"Hey, buddy, let blondie go!" Clem said, his voice shaking just a little bit as the Chirago turned to glare at him.

His hand started to squeeze tighter, and as it became harder to breath for some reason I wasn't quite scared. I was pissed. The light came swiftly this time, a burst of gold knocking him backwards. I dropped to the floor, breathing hard. Had anyone….the anxiety in my stomach eased, everyone else seemed to be quite fine - though there was a singed hole in Clem's shirt. They were all watching me, and as the Chirago groaned I decided now was a good time to bolt.

My hands were shaking as I jogged out into the alley. Images of burnt men and a terrified soldier boy looking at me like I was the devil kept playing through my head, I could swear I smelled skin burning. Why couldn't I control this? Why couldn't I at least know what it was? Half in a daze I started for home, jumping the blind alley wall with practiced ease. I was so lost in thought I almost didn't hear the sounds of fighting up ahead.

I paused, brow furrowing. There was a thud as a fist met flesh, a pained groaned. It was coming from the side alley just ahead, a little blind one that backed up on a convenience store. The Buffy in me told me to go stop it, make sure there wasn't someone in trouble; the Spike in me told me to keep walking; the Marley in me could feel cold adrenaline seeping into her stomach. Something was off.

There was a shriek, and suddenly an all too familiar burst of golden light flooded out of the alley. My eyes widened, the light was dying but the screaming didn't stop. Quite suddenly it was very, very dark - what little light there was from floodlights began to flicker. The scream got higher, and I just stood there...frozen. With a sharp pop the lights died in a shower of sparks. I shifted backwards, instincts telling me to run - but the darkness kept being split by flashes of gold as the screaming started to break, like someone was closing a bird's throat as it tried to sing. I couldn't make myself move.

Then the screaming stopped. The light stopped….and it was dark...and it was cold. For some reason I felt sick.

There was a soft thud of a body hitting the ground.

I stood there in silence, waiting for whatever monster was there to crawl out of that alley. Some part of me needed to see it. It never came though, there was nothing but dreadful silence.

There was a noise in the alley, a soft, gurgling breath. Like a dying animal. My footsteps echoed off brick walls as I turned the corner, eye immediately finding the dark lump of a body dumped next to the trash cans.

"Hello? Are...are you okay?"

It's chest still moved up and down, though irregularly. It gurgled again, and I fought the urge to run. Instead I took another step, kneeling. It was a girl, with long golden curls that reminded me of my own.

"I'm...I'm going to turn you over. Okay?" I gingerly took her shoulder, pushing her onto her back.

Oh God.

Her eyes were searching wildly, blinded by a golden film tinged with an ever darkening black. What was left of her face was pulled back in terror...the rest was a gorey mass of black rot, the left half of her jaw completely caved in. I leaned back, watching as the ooze ate across her cheek and her nose started to fall into itself in grainy bits, like a wave against some kid's sandcastle.

I leaned over and retched, the whiskey I'd had earlier burning against my throat.

She gurgled again, a hand reaching blindly out towards me. The noise wouldn't stop and I felt like crying, the ooze bubbling around her half open throat. Uncertainly I took her hand...and then I waited.

She had scroll work tattoos across the intact portion of her face, they glowed a faint gold that became increasingly faded as the black worked through her light. Light that had looked just like mine. I'd seen tattoos like those before, just they'd been jet on a man with pointed teeth and razor claws. This girl...she bore a resemblance, the cheekbones, what was left of her nose.

She gurgled again, hand squeezing mine tighter as the right jaw went too.

"I'm sorry," I said, voice starting to crack, "I'm -"

"Marley…" Spike's hand closed over my shoulder, "Love, look away."

I didn't let go of her hand. My eyes shut. There was a wet crunch, and her grip went slack. I shouldn't have opened my eyes, I shouldn't have...he had finished the rot's job, crushing her skull. My eyes wouldn't leave the one eye left, the golden gleam clouding over black, as her light finally died.

* * *

 _Day Twenty Six_

I woke with a start, taking in a deep breath. Blue eyes hovered over me, a hand gently cradling my cheek. Spike. It was just Spike. I frowned, sitting up slowly as I tried to clear my head. My mouth was dry, and my head was fuzzy, and something felt terribly wrong.

"Sorry...was I?"

"Yeah," Spike nodded, glancing at the floor, "You started screaming again."

I took a deep breath. "What time is it?"

"Eight...Al's working tonight if you fancy seeing him." He spoke like he was talking to an injured animal. I pushed down the urge to punch him for that. Wasn't worth it, he was half likely to punch back if I surprised him bad enough. I was fine….I was just...shaken up. I was fine. "Clem'll be there," he offered again.

I nodded. "Sounds fine."

"I'll teach you pool."

I perked up ever so slightly, "Really?" He smiled, hopping to his feet and offering me a hand.

* * *

"She's not holding it right," Clem said, shaking his head as I fumbled with the pool cue. I did my best not to be frustrated, who knew demons could get so fucking serious about pool.

"Marley," Spike said, "I already told you, you've gotta -" he rolled his eyes, watching me wield the thing like a javelin, "bloody hell, alright." He came up behind me, hands folding over mine, "You wanna hold here...and...here." His voice was soft in my ear as he pushed us to lean over the pool table, chest firm against my back, "Keep your eye on the cue ball, slide the stick back just a tad...and there…"

He stepped back, giving me my space.

"Is that it?" I asked, glancing back at him.

"I mean," Clem started, "You usually hit the ball, instead of just sitting there." I shot a glare at him, and he put his hands up in defense.

"Just hit the damn ball, Bird," Spike joked, leaning next to me on the table.

Nose wrinkling I tried to focus on the white ball in front of me, carefully pulled back my cue and….my damn stick swung wide, missing the ball and the barnside by a mile radius. Spike doubled over, Clem doing his best to force down giggles.

I was done with this.

Dropping my pool stick on the table I started walking. I just wanted to...not be around people right now. They'd stopped laughing by the time they noticed me at the stairs.

"Bird!" Spike called, "Bird, where do you think you're going?"

I ignored him, jogging up the stairs and heading into the alley. Maybe I'd just take a nap. Spike had brought a couple books back that he'd stolen from a used store last week, I could read in the light of the, also stolen, candles and just take a night to myself for once. No dealing with annoying vampires or demons tonight. I pulled up my hood, walking quickly. I wanted to get home.

There was a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach...I still couldn't get her face out of my head, falling apart under black rot. Sometimes I forgot what awful things were out there.

I stopped. That cold feeling kept getting stronger, like icy daggers plunging through my gut.

Up ahead something moved in the shadows beyond the pale, fluorescence of a back-alley floodlight. My pulse picked up, not blinking I took a step backwards. He stepped into the pool of light, black eyes gleaming, and smiled. Those swirling black tattoos were so much like hers.

He was the one who killed her, wasn't he?

A hand raised in a congenial wave, "Marley. I'd been hoping to see you".

I turned and ran as hard as I could.

* * *

I'd taken the long way on the main roads, ducking around the humans as I sprinted for home. I offered a few apologies, but I didn't stop. My breath was coming hard and fast as I dashed up our office stairs, and bolted through the door, slamming it behind me. I'd hardly stopped when Spike was there, grabbing my shoulders as he looked down at me like I was insane.

Maybe I was insane, the thought had started to cross my mind.

Each breath rasped against my throat, the winter air burning in my lungs. I expected him to start yelling at me for something, but instead he pulled me closer. My head fell to his chest, and his hands held me tight as his he buried his nose in my hair. I closed my eyes, breathing in the familiar scent and trying to remember where I was. Lips pressed gently into my hairline, and I blinked, looking up at him.

"Marley," he said my name, voice low, "You're gonna have to tell me what the hell is going on. Now."

"Spike…" I started to pull away, but he held me tighter - a hand went to the back of my neck, holding my head in place so I couldn't look away.

"No, Bird, not this time! I'm done playing patient! I've been good 'bout not asking questions, haven't breathed a damn word - just made sure you were eating and had a roof over your head. Now tell me why the hell you needed to skip town so bad, why you're screaming at night, why you're bolting around like hell's hounds are at your fucking heels." We stared at each other for a long moment, breathing hard.

"It's not that easy -"

"Yes it's that bloody easy, Marley! You owe me that, you owe me an explanation! I know you aren't stupid, you still have your tongue in your head!"

I broke away, ignoring the twinge as his fingers clawed past my skin, "It's not that easy cause I'm -" my voice broke, "Cause I'm scared." The anger melted away, and I turned to sit on the desk so my damn knees would stop shaking.

"Why?" Spike pressed.

So I told him...I told him everything. I told him I'd dropped out, that the human life with the two-point-five kids and a golden retriever was out the window. I told him about the commandos who had burned, the people I'd hurt...that I couldn't even control it. The Initiative was ready to kill me, and part of me thought I deserved it. I told him about the girl's light, a light that had been just like mine. About the man with the black tattoos that were just like hers, the drink, his smile all alone in that alley. That I was….I was terrified that I was the same thing as they were...that I was made of the same stuff as a man with black eyes. Then I sat there, in silence...trying to remember to breath as my throat closed.

"Spike...I think I'm a monster." My voice cracked, breaking over the word monster and I sucked in a quick breath to stop myself from sobbing. My eyes were filling, and my face started to twist as I pushed down the iron lump in my throat. I let my face fall. I didn't want him to see me crying...I was supposed to be strong, I was supposed to be...I swallowed another sob.

A gentle hand grabbed my chin, pulling my face up to look him in the eye.

"Marley…" The tears started running freely, and I couldn't help but feel so...so stupid, "Marley, we're all monsters. We all hurt people...even the humans are all twisted up like demons."

"I-"

His hand came up, cradling my cheek as a thumb swept over the tears, "You're gonna hurt people Marley, comes as natural to us as breathing...just got to make sure you're hurting the ones who've got it coming to them. That you hurt the right people."

"I can't control that Spike. I don't even know what…." I didn't finish the sentence...what I am.

"Marley...look at me…" His blue eyes shone in the candlelight, harsh shadows flickering over his cheekbones, "Marley, I've never met a soul who tried as hard as you have. You're a demon, you're a monster...but you're good, Bird, you're good."

My cheeks were still wet, but the tears had stopped falling. His eyes trailed down from mine, pausing on my lips as his thumb brushed a stray lock of hair back behind my ear. I blinked, watching his gaze travel back up. One hand stayed in my hair, the other resting on my hip as he leaned in. His lips were soft, pressing first against my hairline, then again on my forehead, the bridge of my nose. He pulled back, eyes intent on mine.

"Marley...love-" Our lips were a hair's breadth apart, he held me tighter, and I could feel each breath against my skin. I'd stopped breathing entirely. I closed my eyes, heart aloft as he -

The phone rang.

We broke apart, staring down at it in utter confusion. The cord had been eaten by rats a long time ago, but there it was, cheerily jingling. It fell silent. It rang a second time.

I looked up at Spike, brow furrowed, "Should we...should we get that?"

He nodded. Looking just about as stunned as I felt.

Carefully, I picked up the receiver, "Hello?"

"Marley?" Willow's voice shook, "Marley we need you, it's Oz. The Initiative has him."

 **So that was that. I really hope you enjoyed it, sorry for interrupting the whole kissing thing. Couldn't let them have it just yet, cause fanfiction is about maximizing agony.**

 **Anyways, I really hope you liked it. I would love to hear feedback, I try to reply to reviews but the review system is doing something wonky right now. I can only read them in my email, but they don't seem to exist on the actual site.**

 **See you next time, hope to hear from you!**


End file.
